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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790347">642 Miles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamali/pseuds/Mayamali'>Mayamali</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>642 Miles + Other Tales From the Road [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Left 4 Dead (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Sexism, Emetophobia, Found Family, Gen, Last names aren’t canon, Neither is Coach’s, Suicide mention, Swearing, Zombie Apocalypse, the gradual defrosting of a shitty conman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:35:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790347</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamali/pseuds/Mayamali</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>642 miles between Savannah and New Orleans. Or, it should have been, before everything went to hell.</p><p>A retelling of the campaign of Left 4 Dead 2 with a few creative liberties.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Everyone &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>642 Miles + Other Tales From the Road [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Producer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Because why not. The chapters are on the short side on purpose.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rochelle had never been more scared in her life than when she was curled up in a maintenance closet, desperately trying to stifle a sob.</p><p>The thing that had once been her cameraman, Mike, was pounding at the door, snarling like... like an animal. The door rattled violently against his fists, but for now - it held. The second she had locked the door behind her, she had dropped down to the ground, pressing her back to the wall. Her hand had found something hard and she grabbed it, clutching it to her chest as though her life depended on it. Imagine her mild disappointment when it turned out to be a screwdriver.</p><p>She couldn't hold back a startled cry when the door buckled inward violently, the wood cracking under the weight. <em>'This is it,'</em> she thought to herself, pressing her hand over her mouth and feeling tears start to pool in her eyes. <em>'Rochelle Moore, for the first and last time from a closet in Savannah, signing off.'</em> The idea almost made her laugh.</p><p>The door shuddered again, and this time, something small but sharp bounced off of her cheek. A splinter. "Oh god," Rochelle whimpered, feeling herself start to hyperventilate. <em>'Come on, Rochelle!'</em> She started to scold herself in her head, squeezing her eyes shut.<em> 'You're braver than this! Do you really want to die here?' </em>The answer was no, obviously, but what could she do?</p><p>Her fingers squeezed around the screwdriver. No... no, she couldn't do that to him. Could she?</p><p>More splinters broke off of the door as Mike continued to ram into it. It sounded like he was putting his entire body weight into breaking the door down now... and he wasn't a small guy. It would be down in seconds at this rate. If she didn't do something now, she'd die.</p><p>With a couple of deep breaths to psyche herself up, she scrambled back up to her feet, trying to figure out her plan of attack. Unfortunately, the door was even more fragile than she'd thought. She screamed again as Mike punched a hole through the wood, desperately grasping for her as the entire door started to crumble.</p><p>In a panic, she struck out and drove the screwdriver deep into Mike's eye.</p><p>They both froze, Mike's jaw snapping shut almost in surprise before he slumped to the floor, leaving her standing there behind a broken door. There was a small spatter of blood on the side of her hand that she didn't register. Carefully, she stepped out of the closet, falling to her knees next to Mike. "Oh my god - Mike, I'm so - I'm so sorry," she cried, tears falling freely now as her coworker lay there, still and silent.</p><p>She had been terrified, but she hadn't wanted to kill him. She had barely even known he was sick. It was like a switch flipped - this morning, Mike had been complaining about feeling nauseous. By the time they got to the Vannah Hotel to set up shooting, he was puking in the bushes.</p><p>Ten minutes later, as she was leading him down a hall to find a bathroom, he was practically feral.</p><p>Shuffling footsteps down the hall and some more snarling broke her from her stupor, and she stood back up with a gasp. For a good second, the hotel was quiet again, but a deep <em>thud</em> from somewhere down the hall nearly had her scrambling back into the closet.</p><p>'<em>Pull yourself together, girl!</em>' she scolded herself as she pressed her back to the wall. With a couple of deep breaths, she smoothed a hand over her face and tried to force herself to think rationally. The symptoms Mike had shown and how quickly he had turned aggressive could only mean one thing: the infection was here in Savannah.</p><p>She'd seen the maps and news reports, how quickly things had escalated. The infection had started what felt like only a few weeks ago, although it was probably more like a month. Pretty much the entire East Coast was lit up with evacuation points and 'do not travel' notices. It was inevitable that it would hit the South, too, but she thought there would be more time.</p><p>Normally, she didn't report; she was an associate producer. But none of her coworkers wanted to leave their houses with everything going on, so she and Mike had gotten to fly to Georgia. Ironically, they were supposed to shoot a story about the evac centers.</p><p>And now, Mike was dead. And she wasn't.</p><p>She wasn't.</p><p>Rochelle sharply inhaled. She felt fine. Well - she didn't feel sick, at least. Not like Mike had been. And if the infection was reaching this far in, CEDA would be mobilizing evac helicopters any second now. She just had to get to the roof.</p><p>She took a step, then glanced back down at Mike. He hadn't moved, a thought that was both strangely calming and incredibly upsetting. With a sniffle, she knelt next to him and, testingly, touched his shoulder.</p><p>His skin was weirdly feverish, but starting to chill. She sighed and fumbled in his pockets for his wallet, pulling out his ID and sliding it into her jeans. She offered one last glance and whispered, "I'm sorry."</p><p>And then Rochelle turned and hurried to the nearest set of stairs before she could lose her nerve.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Mechanic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ellis Wright had been excited, at first.</p><p>He had only vaguely ever paid attention to the news about the infection working its way down the coast. Usually, they'd start talking about science stuff and he'd get bored and go down to the other side of the trailer park to holler at Keith and they'd go joyriding on their ATVs before dinner. But that wasn't to say he hadn't taken it seriously. When he started hearing rumors about Richmond coming down with a case of Green Flu, Ellis had started to plan.</p><p>He drove his truck down to his shop and starting tricking it out the best he could. Armor plating everywhere, spikes on the center disks of all his tires, enough gas to get him a straight shot out of Georgia. It was 100% indestructible.</p><p>The only downside was that there was only enough room for him on the inside once he got all his gear in there. So when the evacuation orders went out, Ellis told Keith to get his mom to the evac point and hop on the first whirlybird that would take them. He'd drive down and catch up after seeing what this bad boy could do.</p><p>It's too bad that he only got downtown before he found out that his truck was, in fact, only <em>99%</em> indestructible. A big-ass thing had charged into him and completely flipped it over. And as Ellis sat upside-down in his now useless vehicle, he kind of thought it was the coolest fucking thing that he'd ever seen.</p><p>Saved by his seatbelt, he realized pretty quickly that, despite how cool it had been, he was now a sitting duck. So he undid his belt, hitting the roof of the truck with a rough 'oof!', and reached for the crowbar that had been under the passenger's seat.</p><p>As he pried the window open, he could see feet shambling by and hear the truck creaking as bodies piled onto it. "Ho-lee <em>shit</em>," he breathed, reaching over to his glove box to grab his pocket flashlight and Swiss army knife before crawling out the window. As he stood, he saw people crawling all over the truck, pounding their fists into it and snarling. They were caked in blood, their skin strangely colorless.</p><p>Ellis only hesitated for a second when one of them turned their glowing yellow eyes onto him. He booked it right then, holding onto his crowbar for dear life.</p><p>The footsteps chasing him faded out after a minute or so, distracted by a car door slamming on a side street, but he didn't dare stop. Not until his lungs were on fire and his legs threatened to just give out right there. He bent over at the waist, hands on his knees, and gasped for air. He had just pulled off his cap to wipe the sweat away from his forehead when he saw it. A group of pale, stumbling people heading slowly in his direction. Ellis cursed and started to move again.</p><p>He had never really been one for maps or whatever. Street signs were just kind of vague suggestions. Ellis preferred to use landmarks and visual cues rather than trying to constantly remember the names of streets. So he kept his eyes in front of him, occasionally glancing up at buildings to see if they looked familiar as he picked his way through the streets, heading towards downtown and the Vannah.</p><p>The broadcasts <em>had</em> said the Vannah, right?</p><p>Ellis stopped in his tracks, furrowing his brows. In retrospect, the Vannah was the only hotel really big enough to hold a big evac center, but what if it <em>wasn't</em> a big evac center? He was pretty sure it was at a hotel.</p><p>A clattering sound from an alley had him nearly shrieking in surprise, bringing the crowbar up as a weapon. But nothing came from the alley, and he took a deep breath. "Calm down, Ellis," he lectured himself, practically singing a sigh. "Ain't the first time you got mixed up. Remember that time you'n Keith got lost driving your ATVs tryin' to take that back path to Wormsloe? Just like that. 'Cept no trees. And no ATV. Man, Keith nearly crashed right into Shipyard Creek. Slipped'n fell right on his ass like three times!"</p><p>Ellis laughed to himself at the memory. Talking out loud always helped him center himself. Especially when he was nervous or thought it was a little too quiet. But right now, it let him calm down enough to confidently say that the Vannah was, indeed, the right place.</p><p>He straightened his back and started to march forward. He was definitely going to have to give Keith shit about the creek again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Coach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trent Campbell's hands gripped onto the steering wheel of his dumpy little sedan so hard that his knuckles were pale.</p><p>He'd known this infection that was spreading, this Green Flu, was serious. He'd heard third-hand how absolutely fucked Pennsylvania was. And with every day he watched the projection creep closer and closer to Georgia, his heart had filled more and more with dread. He'd told his ex to make sure their son got to safety first if it all went to shit under her watch. Now, he was praying she had actually listened to him this time. It wasn't often that Trent got demanding, but when he did, people paid attention.</p><p>"Dumbass," he muttered, refusing to look at himself in the rear-view mirror. "They coulda missed one day. One goddamn day."</p><p>The school had been closed, but some of the kids on his team begged him to let them train for a bit. A big game was coming up, and they were so sure the Flu would pass Savannah by. They were so sure they were invincible. But halfway through, one of the linebackers started whimpering about not feeling well, and then -</p><p>Well. He only hoped the kids that weren't sick got home alright. Or, better yet, heard the evac broadcast. None of them had followed him. He was kind of hoping someone would stumble along so he could give them a ride. It was the only reason he sat idle in the lot. That one little hope that someone had made it out. But all that came was a duo of snarling... things. They barely looked human in their wild-eyed frenzy, charging at his car like they could take it on. For a brief second, he was sure that they could. Trent swore under his breath, giving one last apologetic glance to the field before he shifted out of park and pressed the gas.</p><p>Once he was on the road, the first thing he did was call his ex. "You got the broadcast?"</p><p>"Yeah - Trent, we're just headin' out."</p><p>"Good. I'll meet you there. Tell Jackson Daddy's on his way."</p><p>He hung up and flung his phone into the passenger seat and pressed on the gas, just enough to haul ass and still be driving the limit. It seemed like he was the only car on the road anymore, but he didn't want to take the risk of going too fast. Especially once he got closer to downtown and noticed that there were a lot of cars. And they were all empty. Or, so he thought at first. But then he caught a glimpse of a leg sticking out of an open door. He forced himself not to look, but a bitter, raw fear still trickled into his heart as the cars started to pile up. It was exactly what he was afraid of - so many people were scared for their lives even before the Flu had hit Richmond. Now that it was here, it had turned into a free-for-all as people started to panic.</p><p>Eventually, the cars blocked the highway to the point that he couldn't keep driving safely. Trent slammed a fist down on the dashboard in frustration, glowering at the pile-up in front of him. He was going to have to walk the rest of the way.</p><p>He turned off the car and took some time to gather his things - his phone, the knee brace from the glovebox, and his wallet. When he looked up, he could see helicopters flying through the air like oversized birds - the Vannah was only a few blocks away. He could make it.</p><p>Trent grunted, slipped his brace on, and started walking. A bum knee wasn't going to keep him from getting the hell out of Savannah, even if the thought brought the pain of sentimentality to his chest. He was born and raised here, and now he had to leave.</p><p>But that was a thought for another time. He shook his head, furrowing his brow as he pressed forward. What mattered most was getting somewhere safe.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Gambler</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ah, here he is. this fucker. what a tool.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nick Doran was feeling pretty good.</p><p>He'd slipped out of the shitty motel he'd rented last night for a quickie with a drunk chick from the bar down the street before she'd even woken up, a feat that he was still quite proud of himself over. He would've loved to stay for seconds, but a cruise was calling his name.</p><p>He idly wondered if he had time to go get this suit tailored as he headed for his bike. He'd just gotten it the day before, but it seemed like he had overestimated his height a little bit - the cuffs of the slacks bunched up slightly around his feet, and he had to walk carefully to make sure he didn't step on them.</p><p>With a sigh, he slipped on his helmet and swung his leg over the seat of his bike, revving the engine with a self-satisfied smirk. Oil just changed, and the thing purred like a kitten. And hopefully, he'd be out on the river with a bunch of gullible suckers before the mechanic he'd gone to went to cash the check that would most certainly bounce. It had been a rough few weeks financially, but his luck had been starting to turn around. And he was sure that if anyone could charm the money right out of a bunch of old folks' wallets, it would be him.</p><p>He headed off downtown, pleasantly surprised that the roads seemed relatively empty this far out. Might as well pick up a few things before he took off if he had time.</p><p>Of course, things didn't stay good. As he went, more cars started to dot the road and he didn't think much of it until he nearly ran into one. He thought it was brake-checking him at first, and he blared the horn as he skidded just slow enough to pass, flashing a violent middle finger as he did. "Asshole drivers, " Nick muttered, revving back up to swerve past. He didn't offer a glance back, completely missing the fact that there was blood spatter on the windows.</p><p>The closer he got to downtown, the more his brows furrowed behind his helmet. Cars were everywhere now, sitting at odd angles in the street, empty and driverless. "What the hell..." Nick muttered under his breath. Something caught his eye - a giant smear of blood on the asphalt. Nick was so taken aback by the sight that he didn't notice the parked sedan directly in his path until it was too late to break.</p><p>"Shit!" He swerved hard to the right and ended up careening straight into it, launching off of his bike and rolling roughly onto the road just by the front bumper. Stunned, he lay on the ground, coughing as pain blossomed in his chest. He'd landed right on the gun holster strapped to his shoulder and it had dug ferociously into his ribs.</p><p>He couldn't help but muse bitterly that this might be karma coming after him for unlawful possession of a firearm.</p><p>He sat up, moving slowly to make sure nothing was broken. It hurt to take a deep breath, but nothing felt horrifically painful, so it seemed like his luck had held up in that regard. "Who parks a car... in the middle of the goddamn road," he wheezed, climbing back up to his feet and turning.</p><p>His eyes widened at the sight of a metric shitton of cars blocking the road. He had very clearly missed something here. Nick looked back to his bike with a frown - there was no way he was going to be able to navigate the pile-up. So with a sigh, he went back to right his bike, turn it off, and set the helmet on the handlebar. He'd have to come back for it.</p><p>As he cautiously approached the cars, he noticed one still had the keys in the ignition. Shit, it was even still running. He could hear the radio echoing from the inside of the car, and he was careful in opening the driver's seat door.</p><p>"- ion center at the Vannah Hotel in downtown Savannah. Please remain calm. This message will repeat... This is a message from CEDA. There have been reported cases of Green Flu within city limits. Please proceed to the evacuation center at the Vannah Hotel -"</p><p>Nick's heart stopped cold. He looked up at the dead cars and the utter stillness of downtown Savannah and growled, "You've gotta be shittin' me."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Vannah</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rochelle was still struggling to keep calm. The staircase had been blocked off, barricaded, just above the fourth-floor door. But the Vannah had <em>seven</em> floors, and she needed to get to the <em>roof</em>. So she was forced to step off into the fourth floor, where she immediately heard snarls and growls from down the hallway.</p><p>She moved quickly and quietly, thankful that she'd never been a fan of high heels. Her boots were sturdy, but not solid, and she barely made a noise on the carpet. She just had to find the next staircase without alerting any of those... things.</p><p>God, she wished Mike was still here. Or someone. She felt so alone, sneaking through the hotel like a thief in the night and praying she wouldn't have to run or fight or hide. Thankfully, it seemed like the infected were all on the other side of this floor, and she managed to slide into the new stairwell without incident.</p><p>She sat on a stair just for a minute to let out a breath she wasn't sure she'd been holding, and that was when she heard a voice. It echoed up the stairs, and she was on edge at first until she realized that it was talking. No snarls, no growls... just what sounded like an impossibly cheerful Georgian twang.</p><p>"...tried tyin' a rope to the top of the stairs'n shit, thinkin' he could just shimmy up, y'know? Well, turns out rope don't hold, like, two-hundred pounds of dude, so the damn thing just snapped right where he grabbed it. Yeah, he hit the floor pretty hard, got a concussion and laid up for like three days."</p><p>"Boy," a second voice said, making Rochelle's heart leap into her throat. "You ever stop to take a breath?"</p><p>"Nah, man, I breathe just fine. Keith, not so much. Told me 'gettin' the wind knocked outta your sails' was pretty damn accurate."</p><p>Rochelle stood up and peered over the railing. Sure enough, two men were climbing up the stairs, all the way down what looked to be the second floor. A rather buff young man whom she guessed was the chatty one, and a bigger man carefully taking one step at a time. She leaned back, gnawing at her lip, before calling down. "Hey!"</p><p>Both of the men stopped, looking up at her. She waved, somewhat awkwardly. "Howdy, ma'am!" the younger man greeted very enthusiastically, waving big and wide. "You evac-in' too?"</p><p>"Yeah. Should be on the roof. Do you need help?"</p><p>The bigger man shook his head, even as he gripped the railing. "Just hate... goddamn stairs. 'Course it's... on the roof."</p><p>Rochelle felt bad for him. He was clearly having a rough time with the stairs, but they seemed to be making good distance. She should go on ahead, make sure the choppers were still there - knew they were still there. But at the same time, they were the first friendly faces she had seen in almost an hour at this point.</p><p>'<em>No, Ro,</em>' she thought. '<em>You can get chatty on the chopper out of here.</em>' She shook her head and called back, "I'll go ahead, let them know you're on your way!"</p><p>The bigger guy nodded at her, looking both grateful... and somewhat ashamed. She shot him a sympathetic smile before looking back to the stairs and starting to climb.</p><p>Ellis glanced back at the older man that had joined him. They'd run into each other in the lobby, and if they were going to the evac, it only made sense to go together. But the bigger man was lagging behind a bit, so Ellis stopped halfway up to turn.  "See? Folks're still kickin'! We gotta chance."</p><p>Trent, on the other hand, was starting to regret letting this kid tag along. The second they entered the stairwell, following the signs, he started in on some story about his friend trying to scale stairs just like these. Like a superhero or something. But he had to admit, the optimism was welcome. "Yeah... just gotta survive gettin' up there."</p><p>"I could help ya, y'know -"</p><p>"It's a bum knee, son," Trent interrupted, shaking his head and continuing to pull himself up. "I ain't hopeless yet." As they continued on the stairs, Ellis starting on another story, they didn't notice the stairway door slamming open underneath them.</p><p>Rochelle got halfway up the sixth flight of stairs when she realized she could hear the chopper blades slicing through the air outside. "Evac's here!" she cried down the stairway. She heard a faint whoop from beneath her and smiled - but she didn't open the door yet. She didn't want to risk CEDA thinking she was the only one left. It only took another few minutes for the two men to reach her, and the younger one flashed her a brilliant smile like he was ecstatic that she'd waited for them. The sincerity of it made her flush a little bit, but the sound of footsteps on stairs continued even after they'd stopped moving.</p><p>She peered over the railing again and was surprised to see another man, this one scaling the stairs much faster than the others. It would've been impressive if he hadn't been wearing the most Miami Vice-looking getup she had ever seen. Stark white suit with a blue dress shirt. "Come on!" she called down to him.</p><p>Ellis and Trent followed her gaze, and then looked at each other. "Shit, I didn't even hear him come in," Ellis said, practically bending over the railing to holler, "HURRY UP, MAN!"</p><p>Trent grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back, scowling. "Young'un, settle down!"</p><p>But meanwhile, in half the time it had taken the three of them to reach the door to roof access, the stranger was on them, and he didn't say a word as he brushed past to shove the door open -</p><p>- Only to see the chopper lifting off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Stranding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Shit!" The new stranger rushed forward, trying to wave down the chopper, and the rest of them followed suit, screaming up against the heavy whooshing of blades in the air.</p><p>"Hey, we're still here - !"</p><p>"Come back! Come -" And Trent stopped, heart sinking as the chopper started to fly away, soon followed by an entire platoon until they were just black dots against the skyline. They were too late. "Awh, he ain't comin' back."</p><p>"Oh shit," Rochelle panted in utter disbelief, covering her mouth. "They didn't - they did not just leave us here - this is not happening -"</p><p>The white-suited stranger started pacing before kicking a can across the roof.</p><p>"I mean - maybe - maybe they just didn't see us?" Ellis wrenched his hat off of his head, running a hand through a damp mess of brown curls. "Ho-lee shit."</p><p>On the roof of the Vannah, smoke was curling into the air even after the choppers' take-off. Rochelle looked through the chain-link fence and her eyes widened as she realized she could see flames licking the sides of the building. "Uh... guys...? I think the hotel is on fire."</p><p>"Great. Absolutely <em>fucking</em> fantastic." The suit pushed beside her, standing on his toes to confirm what she was seeing. "Well, now we know that helicopters don't come back when you yell at them. Valuable life lesson, you three can tuck that away for later. We're stranded on a rooftop in Savannah-goddamn-Georgia. And now we're gonna burn to death up here."</p><p>Rochelle flashed him an irritated glance, but he didn't seem to pay her any mind. So instead, she took a deep breath. Okay. The hotel evac was a bust. But there had to be others, right? There had to be -</p><p>"The mall," she blurted out, eyes widening again. "There's another evac station at the mall."</p><p>The suit rounded on her, eyeing her up and down. "Great. You know how to get there?"</p><p>At that, she just stammered. Thankfully, the bigger man - still standing by the doorway - jumped in. "I heard about the mall evac, too. I live 'round here. I can get us there."</p><p>"Oh shit, you too? Hell yeah. Liberty Mall?"</p><p>The suited stranger glanced between the three of them and sighed. "Fine. Get me to the mall and I'll make it worth your while. But right now, if this building is on <em>fire</em>, I would like to <em>leave</em>."</p><p>Rochelle paused, looking back to the stairwell. "There... there are people in there. They're sick. Not acting right."</p><p>"Yeah, I saw 'em comin' in. Might wanna... find some weapons or somethin' -"</p><p>There was a weird, metallic clicking sound to her right, and Rochelle turned around to find a gun had somehow materialized into the suit's hand. "Whoa!" she said, holding up her hands. But again, he seemed not to notice her reaction, examining the gun like nothing was wrong.</p><p>Trent, meanwhile, found a piece of a broken pipe and had wrenched it off the wall with a little effort. "We don't... we're not gonna kill them, right?" Rochelle asked cautiously.</p><p>"I think at this point it could be self-defense," the younger man piped in, his smile trying to be reassuring. It failed when he held the crowbar up a little too enthusiastically. "They don't exactly seem friendly."</p><p>Rochelle furrowed her brows. True, she remembered all too well how Mike had immediately tried to sink his nails into her arm, but... with a sigh, she looked at the younger man. "Don't suppose you got a spare one of those?"</p><p>His smile drooped a little bit at that, but the bigger man pushed past to give her the pipe. "I can bring up the rear," he said. "Try and find somethin' along the way."</p><p>The stranger had been watching this exchange, brows furrowed in an expression that looked... analytical. It was an expression she understood - he was sizing them up. "Problem, suit?" she asked, crossing her arms and raising a brow at him.</p><p>His eyes flitted up to her face and there was only a second's pause before he sighed. "I just hope you three know how to fight. You don't look it." And with that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the stairwell.</p><p>Rochelle glanced back at the others and sighed, tightening her grip on the pipe and following. She tried to ignore how slippery her hands seemed to be with sweat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Infected</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ellis took up right behind the suited stranger as they headed down the stairs. The guy was clearly a tourist - probably from somewhere up north, given the nasality of his accent. But despite asking to be led to the mall, he'd placed himself at the lead of the group.</p><p>Although, it probably made more sense for him to lead. He had the gun.</p><p>Ellis had seen guns before - born and raised in Georgia, how could he have not? But those were mostly hunting rifles. A pistol? Especially one that sleek and new? It was kind of cool. "Where'd you get that?" Ellis asked, trying to start a conversation.</p><p>The suit shrugged, not even looking over his shoulder as they set foot on the seventh-floor landing.</p><p>"You're visitin', yeah? Where from? I can tell it's prob'ly up north with that accent and all. Man, furthest North I ever been was like Richmond for a school tri -"</p><p>"Hey, Overalls," the suit said sharply, finally electing to look over his shoulder in a glare. "This is gonna go a lot quicker if you don't ask questions."</p><p>Ellis blinked, then nodded. The smile never left his face. This guy wasn't chatty; that was cool with him. He could be chatty enough for everyone here, honestly. And he was about to say as much when a loud snarl resonated from the door beside them. It stopped them all in their tracks and they watched the door with bated breath, but it was quiet.</p><p>The suit sighed and gestured for them to keep following past it. They only got a couple of steps down when the door below them flew off of its hinges in a burst of fire. "Holy shit!" he yelled, stumbling back.</p><p>"Get back, get back!" Trent yelled, pulling Rochelle by the arm back towards the doorway. Thankfully, the fire didn't seem to spread, but going any further down this stairway was out of the question. "Looks like we're gettin' off here."</p><p>The suit sighed, rubbing the back of his head before he turned back and nodded at the door, readying his pistol.</p><p>Trent set his lips in a thin line and slowly nudged it open.</p><p>There were people in the hallways. Some were just sitting on the floor, others were leaning against the wall - but they were all sickly grey. Blood dripped from their mouths and eyes. "These don't look like people," the suit muttered quietly, raising his gun.</p><p>"I saw some of 'em outside but man... they look like - like zombies," Ellis breathed, shaking his head. "I <em>knew</em> them books were nonfiction."</p><p>"Sweet Hosanna." Trent's hand clenched into a fist as one of the things in the hallway turned to look at them. For a moment, all was still. But then it bared its teeth.</p><p>Whatever it was going to do was interrupted by a deafening 'CRACK!', and the thing slid to the ground with a hole in its forehead. It startled everyone but the stranger, whose eyes were squinted and cold as he held the gun out in front of him. Smoke drifted from the barrel.</p><p>Rochelle's heart couldn't decide whether to pound with adrenaline or stop with fear. This guy... he had just... fired. No hesitation.</p><p>She didn't have time to consider this for long. The sound brought the other things in the hallway to attention, their snarls rising to a crescendo as they rushed forward. "Get the front ones," the stranger commanded, training his sights upwards. "I'll pop the flankers. Gotta spare ammo."</p><p>Ellis took a batter's stance and rushed forward to crack one of the things under the jaw with his crowbar. Meanwhile, Rochelle was not nearly as eager, striking out in panic when one got too close. But between the three of them, the hallway was cleared in just a few seconds, and the silence was deafening.</p><p>"Not bad." The suit tucked his gun back into his jacket, glancing at Rochelle with a frown. "But you gotta be a bit more proactive than that, sweetheart."</p><p>The condescension in his voice sent her hackles rising, but he was stalking away before she could reply. "Asshole," she muttered under her breath before following. She was pleased to hear someone snort in agreement behind her.</p><p>Someone had blocked off the hallway with suitcases and furniture, so they cut into a conference room to the right. There was something on the table, a massive map. They all paused to look at it, and Ellis whistled lowly. "Shit, man."</p><p>The map was covered in red circles and x-marks, moving all the way down the East Coast. Atlanta was crossed out, but New Orleans was circled multiple times - the ink was still bright. Recent. </p><p>"Man... we're all that's left?" Trent bent over the table, face grim as he looked at the map. "Looks like N'awlins is the last holdout."</p><p>Rochelle hugged herself tightly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I knew the East Coast was gone, but... shit, Atlanta? CEDA never told anyone it was this bad."</p><p>There was a pistol sitting on the end of the table. The suited stranger picked it up, examining it, and slid the magazine out. "Loaded. Who here has ever shot a gun before?" After a second of silence, he looked up to the others looking between themselves nervously. "Oh for fuck's sake - here. What's-your-name, Tons Of Fun, you needed a weapon."</p><p>Trent narrowed his eyes, standing up to his full height. He had a good foot or so on the stranger, but even as he started to say "Ex-<em>cuse</em> me?", the distance between them closed.</p><p>"Mag is full. It's a P220 - 10-mil - so should be fifteen rounds." The stranger slid up to the bigger man, brows furrowed in irritation. He held the gun slightly to the side so that they could all see what he was doing. "Safety is right here. Hold it tight with both hands, none'a that weak grip bullshit. Recoil is gonna be a bitch until you get used to it. Be 100% sure you're ready before you pull the trigger, got it?"</p><p>Trent's brows stayed knit together as he sat through the impromptu gun lesson, but eventually, he nodded, gingerly taking the handle. He turned away to hold it up to eye-level, looking down the sight.</p><p>"There you go. Great. Now we're not <em>completely</em> hopeless." The stranger sighed, squinting down at the map. "Looks like there's not a whole lotta options. Either we get to this evac in the mall or haul ass to New Orleans."</p><p>"Let's get the hell outta here then," Rochelle said, gripping onto her pipe. And the four of them headed out of the conference room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my fbi agent is probably really concerned with all this gun/crime research i'm doing</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Elevator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hallways were eerily still. There was the occasional shuffling of footsteps and growls behind closed doors, but the fire had seemed to take care of most of the zombies still mingling around.</p><p>"What'd you mean earlier?" Rochelle jumped to attention at the voice of the bigger man being directed at her. "About CEDA? You sound like you know what's goin' on." </p><p>"I work for a news station - covering the infection and evacuations," she replied, glancing out a window. Everything seemed bright outside, but it was like a still life painting: too quiet. "We heard about the coast, but CEDA made it sound like they were getting it under control."</p><p>In front of them, the suit snorted. "Yeah. Real good job they're doing."</p><p>"News, huh? You don't look familiar. Local?"</p><p>"No, I, uh... I flew in from Cleveland yesterday. I had a cameraman with me..." She trailed off, remembering suddenly that Mike's body was crumpled in on itself somewhere on the first floor.</p><p>The bigger man could clearly sense something loaded in her words, because he put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Sorry."</p><p>They walked in silence for a bit until the youngest of the group started to jog forward, quickly checking his surroundings. The others followed when it seemed the coast was clear, watching as he strode up to the elevators. He pressed the down button... and nothing happened. "Awh, dammit. Elevator's out."</p><p>"Maybe the ones in the lobby work? I mean, worth it to check."</p><p>They got halfway down the hall when the ceiling collapsed in a pile of debris and fire. They all stumbled back, thankfully far enough away not to get hit. "Okay, I am not walking through <em>that</em>," the suit said.</p><p>Ellis tapped Trent on the shoulder, nodding his head towards a door to their right that seemed untouched. "This way, y'all." If he heard the suit mockingly repeat the world 'y'all' under his breath, he paid it no mind as he led them into a utility room. They closed the door behind them, and the youngest of the bunch peered out a window to the left. "There's a ledge out here. Might be able to shimmy around." He glanced back up at the rest, brows furrowing. "Uh - any'a y'all afraid of heights?"</p><p>"Only if I look down," Rochelle offered weakly, ignoring the pit in her stomach.</p><p>Trent glanced around, eyes falling on a heavy metal chair sitting in the corner. He hefted it over his shoulder and approached the window, slamming it into the glass. The sound of it shattering practically reverberated through the air, followed by an unnatural, collective scream. "Oh... shit," Rochelle said, eyes widening. "I think they heard that."</p><p>Trent swore, bringing the gun out of the waistband of his pants, and the suited stranger went to stand next to him. "You two, take point. Same as the stairway - stay low!"</p><p>Ellis gestured for Rochelle to join him, taking her wrist gently. "No worries. Just follow my lead, alright?" And he flashed her that easy smile again. This time, she found herself smiling back. Maybe she could do this.</p><p>The windows all along the ledge shattered outwards as zombies poured from them. Thankfully, most of them had too much momentum to stop and ended up careening off the ledge and onto the rooftops below. That put them at less of a disadvantage.</p><p>The sound of gunshots rung in her ears as she used the pipe to bash the zombies off of the ledge. She was close enough to hear the suit yelling over the noise, though - "Don't lock your elbows! Bend!" She assumed he was talking to the bigger man, who didn't reply.</p><p>Soon, the flood of zombies turned into a trickle, and they were left splattered with gore and panting. "Ugh..." Rochelle groaned, looking at a rather large bloodstain on her Depeche Mode shirt. "I just washed these."</p><p>"Think it's gonna get a lot dirtier than this goin' forward," Ellis said, shooting her an apologetic glance. "Maybe we can find a bathroom or somethin' to help you clean up."</p><p>"Thanks, sweetie," Rochelle said, patting him on the shoulder. "I think I'll live until we get to the mall."</p><p>They inched along the ledge carefully, making sure to completely bypass the fire by moving a few rooms further than they probably needed to before climbing back into an empty room. The suit nudged the door open into a quiet hallway with the lobby in clear view.</p><p>"Hell yeah. We can check the elevator here," Ellis said. Everyone filed out of the room and carefully headed to the lobby - there were just a few zombies that Trent managed to take care of pretty easily on his own. They all breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator doors dinged open and quickly piled inside.</p><p>"Thank the Lord," the bigger man said as he leaned against the wall. "I was <em>not</em> gonna walk down thirty flights of goddamn stairs."</p><p>The suit hit the button for the ground floor and didn't waste time turning to the group. "Alright. You guys did alright. Now, did anyone get bit? That's how this works, right?"</p><p>"I'm alright." Trent stood up straight, face serious again. Both Rochelle and Ellis patted themselves down and shook their heads - they were clear. "How about you, suit?"</p><p>The stranger looked down at himself, frowning at a bloodstain on the lapel of his jacket. "Hm. There's blood on me, but it ain't mine."</p><p>Trent nodded and paused. "So. Pleased to meet y'all. Just call me Coach. What're your names?"</p><p>"Ellis," the younger of the men chimed in. "I run an auto shop with a couple of my buddies. We're also in a band. I play bass."</p><p>Rochelle hesitated for a second before clearing her throat. "Rochelle. I'm Rochelle." She glanced over at the suit and prompted, "And you?"</p><p>The stranger was checking the rounds in his gun and didn't even look up before saying, "You did good out there, Rochelle." There was a moment of silence that passed awkwardly, the only sound being the dinging of the passing floors. He looked up, brows furrowing as he saw they were all staring at him expectantly. With an irritated sigh, he finally answered, "Name's Nick. But don't bother learning it. Soon as we get to that mall, I'm gone."</p><p>Rochelle tossed a glance to Coach, furrowing her brow. Okay, dude was an asshole. But he was also the only one here who seemed like he knew what he was doing - their chances of getting out of this were better with him around. Coach seemed to read her mind as he nodded at Nick, frowning. "Let's try and stick together a little while longer, okay, Nick?"</p><p>Nick didn't reply - or at least, whatever he was going to say was cut off by a loud buzz as the lights in the elevator went dark. Rochelle grabbed Ellis' arm out of instinct and asked, "Oh god - did it break down?"</p><p>"Looks like we gonna have to pry it open," Coach said, holding his hand out to Ellis. "Let me see that crowbar, son."</p><p>The kid passed over the crowbar with a little frown, and as Coach moved forward to try and wedge it into the gap between the doors, Nick held his gun at the ready. "I get the feeling there's gonna be trouble behind those doors," he muttered, eyes flitting over to the others.</p><p>With a grunt, Coach managed to pry the door open an inch. While that seemed to get the automatic door mechanism working, none of them were prepared for the blast of heat and smoke filling the elevator car. "Aw shit - whole place has gone up!" Ellis yelled, coughing into his elbow.</p><p>Over the inferno, they could hear another collective scream. Coach quickly tossed the crowbar back to the younger man and pulled up his gun, gritting his teeth.</p><p>In the dancing flames around them, shadows started to pour forth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nick took point, yelling over the noise, "We need to move!" Everyone seemed to agree as they practically ran from the elevator and into the burning lobby. But while they were preparing for a fight, they all stopped, dumbfounded by what they saw.</p><p>The zombies were coming, alright, but they didn't seem to register the fire. They ran right through it, setting themselves ablaze and collapsing well before they could reach the group. Rochelle tried to make a joke but instantly starting coughing when she opened her mouth. This seemed to spur them into moving forward.</p><p>With the fire and smoke around them, Nick didn't even pause at the shape approaching his left, assuming it would ignite and burn away. He was quite surprised, then, when a hand grabbed his arm. "What the -" He struggled, pushing whatever held him back into the flames. But it got back up, and he was horrified to see that it was not, in fact, on fire. The rubber suit it was encased in seemed to be fireproof, the flames licking but never quite catching. The zombie inside snarled at him, eyes reflecting through the plastic visor.</p><p>Coach, who had been right behind him, took it down with a single shot, watching as it collapsed with a comical hiss. "What's it doin' in that suit?" he yelled over the blaze.</p><p>"Guess it doesn't stop bites," Nick replied, giving Coach just a brief nod of respect before pressing forward. With Rochelle and Ellis knocking the teeth out of any zombies that survived the fire, he lowered his gun and focused on trying to see through the haze. He was running low on ammo and they needed to get out before they suffocated on the smoke.</p><p>Surviving two floors of zombies just to die of smoke inhalation? God, that would be embarrassing.</p><p>"This way," he urged the group behind him, ducking them into what looked like a kitchen. The only way past the fire was to vault over a table - he left Coach to get Rochelle over while he got distracted by what clearly looked like a gun locker. But just his luck, it was empty, so he moved on. The foyer was nearly devoured by the fire, but there was a path through the flames they could still safely maneuver. A few zombies broke through to try and attack them, but Rochelle surprised him by cracking her pipe over their heads, felling them in one blow. "Nice," he called back.</p><p>They all broke into a run as they saw daylight filtering in through an open door. But just as Nick crossed the threshold, he heard a strangled cry. He spun around to see Rochelle was moving backward. No - not moving.</p><p>She was being pulled.</p><p>Ellis shouted, reaching out to grab her arm while she screamed, "Something's got me!"</p><p>"I gotcha, ma'am!" But as hard as he seemed to pull, he could barely budge her from whatever had grabbed onto her. He didn't see any hands, nothing on the floor that could have gotten her - but when he looked down, he saw something coiled around her chest. "What the hell -"</p><p>"Crowbar -" Rochelle tried to say, feeling the thing around her constrict and force the air from her lungs.</p><p>Coach had sprinted forward to grab onto her, and Ellis used the opportunity to lift up his crowbar. Looking behind her, he saw something stretching through the flames like a rope, pulled taut as it held her. Gritting his teeth, he slammed the bar down onto it. He did this a few times before remembering the Swiss army knife in his pocket. He tucked the crowbar under his arm and flipped out the knife, starting to saw through the rope.</p><p>At this point, Nick was still standing in the doorway. Part of him wanted to run for it, get out of the fire and leave them to whatever was happening. '<em>Every man for himself, Nick. When has it ever been different?</em>' But at the same time, seeing how many goddamn zombies were in the hotel alone, he had a sneaking suspicion getting to the mall on his own would be a hell of a time.</p><p>Not that it mattered. As Nick watched, Ellis eventually broke through, the rope snapping away as something screamed in the fire. Rochelle gasped for air only to choke again on the smoke around them, and Ellis grabbed her arm to pull her into the fresh air outside.</p><p>It was the lobby of the hotel, and at the other end, there was a heavy door leading to the front entrance. Unfortunately, there were also more zombies. Coach pulled up his gun to fire and got a single shot off before the gun started to click empty. "Shit!"</p><p>Nick snarled, using the last rounds in his own magazine to pick off a few more before reaching back to grab at Rochelle's pipe... except her hands were empty. "I... dropped it..." she said weakly.</p><p>"Give her to me," he ordered, standing back and shoving his gun into his jacket. Ellis obeyed, passing her onto Nick just in time to crack a zombie in the head with a crowbar. Nick slid Rochelle's arm over his shoulders and only offered her a quick "Hold on!" before starting to run for the door.</p><p>Ellis managed pretty well on his own, letting the others move ahead while he cleared a path, but it was a wild spin to pull the heavy door closed behind them. He ended up crushing a zombie's arm as it tried to reach in and grab him through the gap. There was a heavy bar on the door; Ellis slammed it in place and backed away.</p><p>The door didn't even budge from the weight of the zombies throwing themselves against it. For now, they were safe.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Safe Room (I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nick set Rochelle down on a couch, where she doubled over and coughed so hard he thought she might throw up. They all took a long moment to catch their breath, but Coach eventually managed to say, "All right. We all right, y'all."</p><p>Ellis nodded, finally breaking into a smile before Rochelle groaned. "God, what is this shit?" She had looked down at her chest; the rope that had snared her was still wrapped around her. Except now, in the light of the safe room, they all saw it wasn't a rope at all. It was some kind of fleshy, spongey thing.</p><p>Rochelle wasn't proud to admit she panicked as she tore the thing off of her and chucked it across the room. "That ain't natural," Coach said warily, crouching down to examine it.</p><p>"It looks like a..." Nick peered at it, then recoiled in horror. "Holy shit, is that a <em>tongue</em>?"</p><p>The tapered end and ridge down the middle of the thing suggested that it was, in fact, a tongue. Rochelle shuddered in disgust, rubbing her arms and trying to brush away the feeling. "God, that must've been one of those <em>things</em>."</p><p>Nick looked up at her, brows furrowing. "What things?"</p><p>"The..." She swallowed, suddenly feeling very thirsty. "The reports... f-from CEDA. They mentioned things worse than zombies. Mutations."</p><p>"Mutations - these things <em>mutate</em>?" The suit's expression quickly went from surprise to fury. "And you didn't think to mention that?"</p><p>"I was a little busy trying not to <em>die</em>!" she snapped back, returning his glare with an equal amount of vitriol.</p><p>"People!" Coach yelled, raising his hands. His voice boomed with enough authority that it snapped them from their argument. "We got a long way to get to the mall. Let's not go bitin' each other's heads off yet, alright?"</p><p>Nick and Rochelle both fell silent, but he offered her one last look before stalking off to scope out the rest of the room. He was still in hearing range when Coach knelt down next to Rochelle and asked quietly, "What kinda mutations are we talkin' about here, baby girl?"</p><p>She nodded, trying to recall the information. "Um... CEDA - CEDA still isn't sure what causes it, but there's a... few. I think that one was a Smoker? They have... long tongues. They snare you."</p><p>"A'ight. And the others?"</p><p>Rochelle counted on her fingers as she went. "Uh... Boomers - they're big guys. I guess they explode? Spray some nasty shit on you. Hunters are the ones that pounce on you, tear you up. And then there were a few more that have only kind of started popping up recently - Spitters, they shoot some kind of goo at you. Chargers pin you down, and... Jockeys? Yeah, Jockeys. Not sure what those ones do."</p><p>"Think you'd recognize them if you saw 'em?"</p><p>"Probably. They look different than the others - I'll try and call them out."</p><p>"God, this bug really wants us dead, huh?" Nick finally said, voice flat and dry as he turned around. "Good news, though. We got ammo and some weapons over here."</p><p>The group crowded around the counter Nick had set up at. Sure enough, there were a few boxes of ammunition. Lying against the wall was a fire ax and another crowbar. Nick and Coach took the time to reload their pistols and grab a few extra clips while Rochelle went for the fire ax. Nick turned back to start pushing an upturned table against the door to block it off.</p><p>"Wait, what if someone was still in there?" Ellis interjected. "They ain't gonna be able to get in."</p><p>"Better them than us."</p><p>"What the hell, man?!"</p><p>Nick sighed, turning back once he was sure the table wouldn't move if someone hit the door. "That inferno back here with all those zombies? You think anyone survived that? I'm worrying about <em>me</em> right now, not some hypothetical what-ifs."</p><p>"Just don't seem right," Coach said, shaking his head.</p><p>"If it bugs you that much, big guy, go ahead and leave the door open."</p><p>But ultimately, once the shock had worn off and they really thought about it, the more they seemed to reluctantly agree. If there had been anyone left alive back there, they would have seen them by now. The table stayed up and the door remained deadbolted as they prepared to move on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Charger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They decided to take a few minutes to catch their breath and calm down before leaving the safe room. There were some lukewarm bottles of water that they drank down eagerly to wash the taste of smoke from their mouths.</p><p>Coach was peeking out the window of the door leading to the streets of Savannah with a frown. There were more zombies outside, strangely tranquil. The blocked-off door behind them had grown silent after a few minutes; apparently, losing eye contact made them lose interest. Meanwhile, Nick had sat down on the opposite side of the couch as Rochelle. His frustration seemed to have dimmed considerably over the past few minutes, but he was silent as he flipped a crowbar in his hands. Ultimately, he didn't want to have to rely on Ellis and Rochelle as the sole bruisers in the group if he ran out of ammunition.</p><p>Ellis was looking at a collection of first-aid kits sitting on a table by the door, opening them to see what was inside. "Anyone know how to use these things?" he wondered aloud, suddenly aware of his lack of survival skills.</p><p>"I do." Nick glanced up at him, frowning a bit. "Most of it's pretty intuitive. But, uh... holler if you need help, I guess."</p><p>"Wow, Nick," Rochelle said more than a little snidely. "How kind of you."</p><p>"I could've left you on that roof."</p><p>"Young'un's," Coach warned, and they both fell silent. After another moment, he sighed, glancing back at the group. "A'ight. Let's take the kits just in case. But if we don't go now, we ain't gonna make it. Everyone ready?"</p><p>Nick stood up, hefting the crowbar over his shoulder. He looked entirely too comfortable like that; it made Coach uneasy. "Yeppers."</p><p>Rochelle raised an eyebrow and stood up, rubbing her chest. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."</p><p>Ellis bounded up to the door, nodding once before helping Coach lift up the bar. The sound attracted the attention of a zombie nearby, but Ellis smashed his crowbar into the side of its head before it could alert the others. He, Nick, and Rochelle took out as many as they could with their handheld weapons before crowds started to form and Coach broke out his gun.</p><p>It didn't take long to clear the area. With everything quiet, they took some time to look around. There were a few dead CEDA workers and medical tents set up, surrounded by a fence with plenty of cautionary signs.</p><p>Ellis bent down next to a hazmat suit when he noticed something poking out from underneath it. "Hey, come check this out."</p><p>The others crowded around as he picked up the jar and held it up. Inside was a sickly, dark green fluid, and the label clearly warned 'BIOHAZARD'. "What is it?" Rochelle asked, peering at it.</p><p>Nick grabbed the bottle, flipping it over and reading the label: "'Boomer excretion'." After a moment, he recoiled, holding the bottle away from him and wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Didn't you say Boomers were the ones that sprayed nasty shit?"</p><p>"Yeah." Rochelle paused, understanding pretty quickly what he meant. "God, put it back."</p><p>They set the bottle back down and continued to move. They had just gotten to the road and were about to inspect an empty tent when they heard something: a sound like a strangled elephant. Nick brought out his pistol and muttered, "Is someone beating a dead horse or something?"</p><p>"Careful, now," Coach said, stepping forward to listen. The air grew still and silent, but he waited. Just when he was about to suggest they move on, the sound echoed through the air again, and he noticed almost too late that something was barrelling right towards them. "Out of the way!" he yelled, sidestepping as fast as he could.</p><p>The thing blew past them, nearly clipping Nick in the shoulder and sending him sprawling to the ground with a strangled grunt. It eventually collided with the fence, spinning around.</p><p>It was grotesque to look at, its face almost frozen in an emaciated snarl. Its left arm was shriveled, without even a hand attached to it anymore, while the right one was massive, not unlike a battering ram. Coach's eyes widened as it lowered its head and screamed again. He swore, pulling out his gun and firing at it as it started to run. It wasn't moving nearly as fast as before, giving him time to backstep as he unloaded into it. Rochelle rushed forward, flipping the ax in her hands and burying it into the creature's neck. With that, it fell to the ground, twitching for a second before it went still.</p><p>"What the hell was that?" Ellis breathed, holding his crowbar in a death grip.</p><p>"I'm gonna guess that was a Charger," Rochelle replied, glancing down at the ax in her hands. A low groan from behind them set them all on edge until they realized it was Nick, struggling to sit up on his own. She hurried to him, holding out her hand.</p><p>He looked at it for just a second before completely ignoring it, working his way up to his feet on his own. "Well," he said, sounding winded. "You know what they say about zombies with one big arm."</p><p>Rochelle blinked at him before groaning in disgust at the joke, turning back to the others. Nick huffed a laugh, then grimaced. He had fallen just right enough to hit the bruise that had formed on his ribs from his crash earlier. He gave himself just a second to catch his breath before rejoining the group.</p><p>The road was blocked off with a fence, but there was a door to a highway maintenance tunnel up ahead. Nick forced the door with the crowbar, sighing as it popped open violently. He'd forgotten how much he loved doing that. Breaking and entering - his old friend.</p><p>"Seems like these things like to try and pick us off," Coach warned as they stepped into the tunnel. "Stay close, y'all."</p><p>There was another ax leaned against a wall inside; Coach grabbed it. "Hey," Ellis said after a moment, glancing over to Nick. "Y'know, I was thinkin' - if we're goin' the way I think we're goin', there should be a gun shop on the way to the mall."</p><p>Nick raised a brow at Ellis, then looked at Coach to confirm. Seeing the bigger man nod, Nick huffed quietly, a corner of his mouth lifting in a one-sided smile. "Well, shit. That could even the score pretty quick. Especially if there's gonna be more of these assholes around."</p><p>"A'ight. We'll keep an eye out for the gun store." Coach took point, leading them down another flight of stairs. The tunnel opened up to another stretch of highway with another good dozen zombies. The four of them, once they fell into a rhythm, cut a swath through them.</p><p>Rochelle found it disturbingly easy to settle in on killing these things. When the highway was clear, she hefted her ax over her shoulder and frowned as she trailed behind the group - close enough that she could call for help but far enough away that she could think. In a way, the fact that they had quickly stopped calling them 'infected' and started calling them 'zombies' had probably helped.</p><p>She vaguely recalled discussing something in a Psych class in college about how human brains adapt to extreme violence in survival situations. Maybe that's what this was: adaption. Nothing more, nothing less.</p><p>She was knocked from her thoughts when she nearly ran right into Ellis. Looking up, she noticed that everyone had stopped moving, paused right in the middle of a grass inlet between two sections of the road. She was about to ask what was the matter when she heard it.</p><p>Crying.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Witch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was high pitched sobbing, echoing in the tunnel in front of them with its volume. "What is that?" Ellis asked, glancing back at Rochelle.</p><p>She blinked at him in confusion, then remembered: between the four of them, she knew the most about the Green Flu and its mutations. She wracked her brain, trying to recall if she'd read anything about infected that cried, but... she shook her head. "I don't know." They fell silent again and continued onto the next stretch of road. Their progress was stopped by a divider far too tall for them to climb, but Ellis nudged them towards a trailer with a ladder attached to it.</p><p>"I'll go up first, scout around," he whispered. The crying was louder now; it was an unnerving sound that seemed to even shake him, but to his credit, he didn't hesitate before starting to climb. He was only up for a second before he ducked back down. "Oh shit - I think I found whatever's cryin'."</p><p>"Climb up top," Coach said, and Ellis paused for a second before nodding and disappearing on top of the trailer. Nick went next, and Coach gestured for Rochelle to follow before he brought up the rear.</p><p>Ellis crouched down onto a knee and pointed. "Right there."</p><p>Stumbling down the street was a girl, emaciated and grey and sobbing into her hands. Her face was obscured by long, dirty hair so pale it looked white. Rochelle almost felt bad for her. Some part of her was tempted to ask if she needed help until she saw the claws - massive, wicked-looking things sticking from her fingertips.</p><p>"That ain't right," Coach whispered, brows furrowed. "What's she cryin' for?"</p><p>Nick snorted softly. "You think she's sad the mall is closed?" Rochelle smacked him in the back of the head before she could stop herself. He stumbled a little at the impact, shooting a surprised look back at her. "Ow!"</p><p>"Yeah, talk shit, get hit, asshole," she hissed, eyes narrowed at him.</p><p>Coach snorted, resting his ax on his shoulder as Nick muttered, "Joke. Jesus Christ, it was a joke." Past the crying zombie, on the other side of the road, was another door. "Gonna guess that's where we're heading?" Nick said, looking to Coach for confirmation.</p><p>"Yeah. Maybe we can slip past her; she's not lookin' at us. Stay low, keep quiet, and book it."</p><p>They all nodded, although Nick was grumbling something about this being a bad idea as they climbed down the other side of the dumpster. The crying zombie stopped a good ten feet away, and Coach put himself in front of the others, arm outstretched to hold them back. But the zombie never looked up, stumbling backward and turning away from them. They made their move then, trying to stay quiet while sprinting for the door. Ellis peeled ahead of the others, holding the door open so they could all file in before closing it behind them.</p><p>Rochelle sighed out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, resting her hands on her knees. "Sorry, guys - there wasn't anything in the CEDA reports I saw that mentioned anything like that."</p><p>"S'alright, girl. Those claws looked nasty though - better keep away if we run into more of 'em." Coach rested his hand on her shoulder reassuringly, and it helped.</p><p>They took just a second to breathe before heading up the stairs on the other end of the room. Up top was a first aid station, and Nick promptly opened it to swipe a bottle of pills. "Never know - didn't see any in the kits," he said, stuffing them in his pocket.</p><p>"Good call," Ellis said, taking a bottle for after a moment of consideration.</p><p>Rochelle noticed a bottle under the table that seemed to have something sticking out of it. She reached under and pulled it out into the light, blinking. "Is this what I think it is?"</p><p>Nick did a double-take in her direction, and she was surprised to see his face light up at the sight of the narrow-necked bottle in her hands. It was half-full of strong-smelling liquid, stopped by a piece of cloth. "Oh, shit - that's a goddamn molly. Whoever was here last, I like their style."</p><p>"How do you know this shit, Nick?" Coach finally said what Rochelle had been wondering since they met, leveling Nick with a suspicious look. "Guns, popping that door back there, whatever that thing is?"</p><p>"That thing," Nick said, stepping forward to take the bottle from Rochelle's hand. "Is a Molotov. And listen - does it matter? It's helping you out, isn't it?"</p><p>"He's right, Coach," Ellis chimed in after a second of awkward silence. "We got plenty of time to get to know each other on the whirlybird outta here. It ain't no harm if it gets us somewhere safe."</p><p>Rochelle agreed but bit her tongue and said nothing. She had a feeling that if Nick heard she was on his side here, she would never hear the end of it. Eventually, Coach sighed and shook his head. "Fair 'nough. Just be careful with that."</p><p>"Sure thing." To her surprise, Nick held it back out to Rochelle. "Got room to hang onto this? I'm getting a little bogged."</p><p>Rochelle shook her head, then glanced at Ellis. "Hey - Ellis. You got enough pockets?"</p><p>Ellis patted himself down and nodded, taking the Molotov from Nick. He looked at it in awe for just a second before tucking it into one of the pockets of his coveralls.</p><p>"Alright. Let's get a move on."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Gun Store</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door on the upper floor led off to some kind of an overpass. A portion of the fence had bent outward, but there was a semi-truck crashed underneath. It was an intimidating drop, but doable.</p><p>"Down here," Coach said. "Watch your step."</p><p>Ellis helped Rochelle down, and Nick dropped relatively easy. Coach went last, both to make sure that everyone was safe and to figure out the best way to get down without fucking up his knee. In the end, he just took a deep breath and jumped, trying to absorb the impact equally between his hands and feet. The landing sent a jolt of pain up his bad knee, forcing him to rest in a kneel for a second.</p><p>"Hey man, you alright?" Ellis reached down with a hand. Coach was ready to brush him off, but he looked up at Ellis's face and saw only sincerity. If Coach hated anything, it was being pitied over his injury. But Ellis didn't seem to pity him, not here.</p><p>So Coach swallowed his pride and took Ellis's hand, pulling himself up with a grunt. "Yeah. We good now."</p><p>"Cool." And with that, Ellis turned away, and the four of them continued along the road. There was a stairway leading up to a building on their right. As they approached, the street became much more familiar to Coach.</p><p>"Should be another overpass on the other side of that building," he called to the others, pointing it out. "Gun store should be right there. Then the mall's about ten minutes away."</p><p>Rochelle held up a fist in a quiet cheer. "Gun store, away!"</p><p>There were only a few straggler zombies along the path that they took care of before ducking through the building. Sure enough, the staircase led to a fenced-off overpass, and directly across from them was a giant sign that said 'WHITAKER'S GUN SHOP'.</p><p>"There it is!" Ellis started into a jog, gesturing for the others to follow him down the overpass. They managed to get to the opposite staircase without incident, but Ellis was halfway down the first set of stairs when they heard... something. Wet, bloated gurgles.</p><p>Rochelle felt sick just hearing it. When the others quietly glanced back at her for an answer, she swallowed hard and shook her head.</p><p>"Stay close," Coach whispered, putting his hand on Ellis's shoulder. With a nod, they huddled close and continued down the stairs. There was nothing at the bottom, but just as Ellis touched his feet to solid ground, a groan came from... under them? Rochelle cautiously peered over the stair railing to see a hulking shadow in the space underneath the stairs.</p><p>Now she could see what it was. She had the mind to push forward and yank Ellis back by the shirt collar just as the thing bent forward and let out a filthy retching sound. A disgusting sludge coated the ground where Ellis had been standing, some splattering onto his boot.</p><p>"What the shit?!" Nick raised his pistol.</p><p>"That one explodes!" Rochelle yelled back to him when she saw his finger start to tighten on the trigger. "Back up!"</p><p>Ellis had landed right on his ass, but Rochelle and Coach helped him back up to his feet and pulled him further away. When the thing emerged from under the stairs, they could see it clearly. This zombie was incredibly bloated, its flesh spongey and soft-looking and dotted with pustules. Nick took the shot, and it exploded.</p><p>A foul smell started to rise from the bile coating the ground, and Rochelle nearly threw up herself, covering her mouth with a hand. "Oh, god, that smells terrible!"</p><p>There was an enraged scream from behind the stairway wall, followed by a few snarls. "Shit," Coach said, letting go of Ellis to pull out his gun. Thankfully, it was only a few zombies that rushed from behind the wall, converging on where the fat thing had exploded. Their eyes raised up to Ellis and they scrambled forward. Coach put them down just as one started to claw at Ellis's boot.</p><p>"You're getting pretty good with that gun, Coach," Ellis said weakly before examining his boot. "Aw, shit."</p><p>"Boomer," Rochelle finally said out loud once she could talk without feeling sick. "That was - that was a Boomer."</p><p>Nick narrowed his eyes and squeezed past the others, pressing against the railing. "C'mon. Gun store is right there, guys, let's get inside." They obeyed, pointedly holding their breath as they passed the pile of bodies. There were a few more zombies converged outside the shop, but Nick took care of them with a few quick shots before trying the front door. It was unlocked, and he cautiously pushed it open. Thankfully, none of the zombies had gotten in, which let him take in the beautiful sight of an entire wall of guns. Assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns - "Candy store for adults," he said, grinning as he entered.</p><p>"Oh sweet Jesus," Rochelle gasped as she followed in behind him. "Would you look at all these guns?!"</p><p>After one last look around to make sure the area was clear, they closed the door behind them. Ellis reached for a sniper rifle, huffing softly in surprise as he picked it up. "Whoah - these things're heavier than they look."</p><p>Coach's attention was drawn to a shelf that seemed to be full of pamphlets, stepping closer to get a better look. They were manuals, a fact that he mentioned out loud to the others. "Might be a good idea, I don't know how to use any of these."</p><p>While the others converged on the manuals, Nick was appraising the assault rifles. Eventually, one called his name - a SCAR - and he grabbed it, holding it to get accustomed to the weight. He pursed his lips in thought, glancing back at the group as they started to come back his way and pick out guns for themselves.</p><p>He shouldn't mention it. On the one hand, if they ran into law enforcement, they might have some problems. But on the other hand, the others were already suspicious of him, distrustful. And it's not like he was planning on sticking around once they got to the evac station. He could dump his gun before meeting with CEDA and everything would be hunky-dory.</p><p>So he didn't. Instead, he watched as Coach went for a tactical shotgun and Rochelle, to his surprise, also looked at the assault rifles, eventually picking up an AK-47. Meanwhile, Ellis was still holding the rifle, bringing it up to his eye to look through the scope. He had the sense to point it away from the others, at least. "You gonna be good with that, Cleetus?"</p><p>Ellis lowered the rifle, eyes rolling at the nickname. "Yeah. Feels right."</p><p>Nick shrugged, resting against a pile of ammunition crates and surprising himself when his elbow hit something light. He turned to see what he had hit and noticed a white box resting at elbow-height. The text on the side read 'LASER SIGHTS'.</p><p>His eyebrows rose, and he took one... then another three, handing them out to the others. "These'll be good - mostly for me and Rochelle since we have the range weapons. But we should hang onto these."</p><p>"Okay. We're armored up - how should we get to the mall from here?" Rochelle asked, glancing at Coach once Nick showed her how to attach the laser sight.</p><p>"Hmm." Coach furrowed his brow. That was a damn good question. "Road was fenced off. Let's see if there's another way out of here."</p><p>Ellis wandered to the back of the store, brightening when he saw a door. "Over here!" Unfortunately, it was locked, evidenced by the fact it didn't even budge when he pulled on the handle. But he noticed a small panel with a button on the wall next to the door that he pressed, hoping the door would just pop open.</p><p>Imagine his surprise when a speaker crackled to life and an unfamiliar voice said, "Hello there."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Cola Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rochelle jumped, hiding her new gun behind her back like she could hide it from the voice. Ellis glanced over and chuckled nervously, saying, "Oh - hey. We're just passin' through."</p><p>"Yeah," the voice said, tinny and relatively pleasant. "I'm guessin' you four'd be headin' to the mall for rescue. I also guess you're gonna have a hell of a time doing it - CEDA blocked the road."</p><p>"Oh, son of a bitch," Nick muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>"Normally, I wouldn't much care for looters, but I think we can help each other out here."</p><p>The group looked between each other before nodding, and Ellis leaned back in. "Sure thing, brother, whatcha need?"</p><p>"I've barricaded myself on the roof with provisions and guns enough to kill every zombie in the city five times over. But in my haste... I forgot cola." Nick's expression grew less frustrated and more incredulous as the voice continued. "You go get me some cola from the store over yonder, I'll clear the path for you."</p><p>"Okay, I can understand that. Man needs his snacks and all." Ellis glanced back at the others and mouthed, "Man, this guy's weird."</p><p>"I'll even throw in the guns you stole from me, free of charge. What'd'ya say?"</p><p>Nick pushed forward, clearly having had enough, and spoke up. "Thanks for the guns, honestly, we appreciate it. But you better not be screwing with us."</p><p>"On my word as a gentleman, I will do no screwing, sir. I'd shake on it, but there's no way in hell I'm goin' back out there."</p><p>In Nick's experience, someone giving their word was just about as good as looking at a pile of dirty dishes and saying "eh, I'll do them later". But seeing that they didn't seem to have any other options, he sighed and said, "Sure. Why not?"</p><p>The door buzzed loudly, clicking open. "Best get a move on, then," the voice said before going silent.</p><p>"Nice to see people still have their priorities straight," Rochelle quipped.</p><p>Another set of stairs went up to the balcony of what looked like either a motel or apartment complex. Across the parking lot, separated with a giant partition, was the store. And sure enough, the road beyond it was blocked off by a giant tanker. They had gotten down from the balcony and to the highway when Nick, who had been leading the charge to the store, slowed to a stop. "What's up, man?" Ellis asked, seeing him look around.</p><p>"It's too quiet."</p><p>Ellis blinked, turning around to check behind him. Sure enough, the lot was empty. The highway, too. Even the parking lot of the store was dead silent. "Ain't that a good thing? If they ain't here?" Nick tightened his grip on his gun and didn't answer as he continued walking.</p><p>Coach and Rochelle glanced at each other before continuing to follow. "You got a point, though, Nick," Coach eventually said once they turned to the other side of the partition. "This is startin' to creep me out."</p><p>"<em>Starting</em> to?"</p><p>When they finally reached the store, Rochelle went to pull on the front doors. They didn't budge. "Shit - locked."</p><p>"We could prob'ly jimmy the doors," Ellis offered.</p><p>"Don't feel right," Coach muttered, shaking his head as Nick set his rifle down and pulled his crowbar from his belt loop. Nick offered one glance back before shoving the crowbar between the doors and pulling.</p><p>An alarm immediately started shrieking out into the empty air as the doors slid open, startling all of them into panicked shouting. "Shit! Go go go!" Ellis yelled, shoving Nick forward into the store.</p><p>As they filed in, a collective scream rose up from the treeline next to the store. Nick swore; it was just what he'd been afraid of. Just because they hadn't been able to see any zombies didn't mean they weren't still around. "One of us grabs the cola, the rest cover," Coach yelled, taking the words right from Nick's mouth.</p><p>Rochelle nodded, wrapping the strap of her gun around her chest and sprinting to the back of the store. Nick stopped just around the corner and dropped to a knee, raising the gun with practiced ease. "Alternate fire," he yelled over the sound of snarls and feet pounding against the floor. "Shout out if you need to reload -" But if Coach and Ellis heard him, he didn't get any response before zombies started to pour in through the front entrance.</p><p>Rochelle couldn't help but flinch when she heard guns start firing. She had started to get used to the pistols, but this was a different sound. A rhythmic pattern she could feel reverberating through the floor. Thankfully, the refrigerated section was right in front of her, and she nearly cheered when she saw one last six-pack of glass-bottle cola sitting inside. "Got it!" she yelled over the cacophony, turning to see a horde of black shapes twisting and falling in front of the others.</p><p>Ellis was somehow managing to pick off zombies, but not nearly as efficiently as Nick. Coach looked back at her and saw the case in her hands. "A'ight, we movin', people!" His voice carried over the horde, receiving a high shriek in response even as they all started to move forward.</p><p>Nick stopped shooting to reload, but as he reached into his pocket for a clip, his fingers brushed against something cold and hard - his lighter. Glancing back, he saw the Molotov still sitting in one of Ellis's pockets and got an idea. Once he reloaded, he reached back in for the lighter and held it out towards Ellis. "Kid - once we get back to the highway, light up that molly and toss it behind us."</p><p>"What?" Ellis yelled back, looking at the lighter with wide eyes.</p><p>"The Molotov I gave you! Toss it behind us, cut 'em off!"</p><p>Ellis took the lighter, but it still took a second for him to realize what Nick was saying. Once he did, he nodded fiercely, swapping out his rifle for his crowbar. "Got it!"</p><p>They pushed their way through the aisles and back into daylight, where zombies were pouring forth from behind the store and the treeline to their right. "Ro, go for it, baby, we got you!" Coach yelled, gesturing to the highway with a shoulder.</p><p>Rochelle hesitated for a second before she took a breath and made a break for it. As soon as the others hit the sidewalk, Ellis fumbled for the Molotov in his pocket, hands shaking as he flicked the lighter. Finally, the cloth caught fire, and he chucked it. "Fire in the hole!"</p><p>It shattered and fire immediately spread across the asphalt. Just like in the hotel, the zombies ran right through the flames, lighting up like tissue paper and leaving them with far fewer zombies to contend with from that direction. Ellis didn't get to enjoy the victory for long before Rochelle screamed from behind the partition. He swore, turning the corner to see a small group of infected rushing at her. Without thinking, he swung out his rifle, peered through the scope, and fired.</p><p>A bullet went through one of the zombie's eyes - direct headshot. He managed to clip another in the shoulder by the time Coach could barrel past and kill the rest with some quick shotgun blasts. "Damn, kid," Nick said from behind him, whistling quietly. "Nice shot." Ellis just grinned at him from over his shoulder before moving forward.</p><p>The Molotov took care of most of the horde, so they were relatively unhindered as they worked their way back up to the balcony. There was a stark white door at the end. "We're here!" Rochelle called out.</p><p>A small hatch opened in the door, and the voice on the intercom said, "In the slot - hurry!"</p><p>Rochelle carefully placed the cola into the hatch and immediately drew her assault rifle, flinching a little as it kicked in her hands. But it was easy to adjust as she joined in picking off the rest of the horde.</p><p>"A six-pack? I'll go through that in a day!" the intercom said. "But... a deal's a deal. Y'all ever see a tanker explode?"</p><p>Before any of them could answer, there was a bright flash, and in the time it took Rochelle to blink, the tanker blocking the highway exploded like a sunburst. Part of the tanker flew into the gas station, finally stopping the alarm.</p><p>"Hell yeah!" Ellis hollered, punching a fist in the air.</p><p>"Thanks, mister!" Rochelle called out to the door.</p><p>The voice on the intercom simply chuckled. "God watch over you." And then it went silent.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Mall (Part I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The high of their survival wore down quickly once they started climbing through the rubble of the tanker and approached the mall. There were more medical tents, but they were all deserted. Ellis stopped at a dead CEDA agent slumped over a table, seeing another biohazard bottle sitting nearby. "Hey, Ro," he called out, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "That fat zombie back there - you said that was a Boomer, right?"</p><p>"Yeah." She looked over her shoulder, stopping when she noticed he wasn't following.</p><p>"There's another one'a those bottles here."</p><p>Nick made a noise of disgust. "God, I forgot about that."</p><p>"No, listen. That stuff it upchucked - the other zombies came runnin' at it. Maybe... it attracts 'em? And CEDA was tryin' to weaponize it?"</p><p>They were all quiet for a second before Nick muttered the obvious. "They were bottling up puke to throw at the zombies."</p><p>"Distract 'em or somethin'," Ellis said, nodding and picking up the bottle. Nick looked like he was going to be sick. "Might be worth it -"</p><p>"No," the others said almost in unison. Rochelle eventually sighed at the way Ellis's eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. "Okay, maybe you're onto something. Just... keep it away from the rest of us, okay?" The youngest survivor perked up, nodding as he strapped the bottle to his leg.</p><p>The entrance to the mall had another door with a heavy bar settled on it, but they were all on edge as they approached. "This place is a ghost town," Nick said, tension tightening up his entire body.</p><p>"The people must all be inside," Coach said. His voice wasn't very convincing. But they all filed into the mall and closed the door behind them, bolting it shut.</p><p>It was dark inside. None of the lights in the entrance seemed to be working, so the only light came from whatever sunlight could filter in through the boarded-up windows. But the worst part is that it was utterly silent. Rochelle peered out of the opposite door once the barricade was up. She could see shapes in the darkness swaying gently - more zombies. "Okay, so it's a bit quiet," she said, trying to convince herself more than the others. "Maybe the evac center is further in?"</p><p>"God, I hate malls," Nick grumbled. He had jumped onto a table in the corner, legs dangling down as he took stock of his ammunition.</p><p>"I love malls," Ellis said brightly, something in his eyes lighting up as he laughed. "Y'know, this one time, I was in this mall up in Atlanta, and these guys were dancin' for like money and stuff, and my friend Dave and I was all like -"</p><p>"Ellis," Coach said tiredly as he realized the kid was about to go on a tangent. "We ain't got time for this."</p><p>"Oh. Okay."</p><p>Nick gave Coach a look that he could swear was grateful. Coach just nodded and checked his shotgun. There had been a few bags and straps in the gun store that they had... appropriated, so they had what he thought was more than enough ammunition to get through. Nick had used a strap to tie a first-aid kit onto his back, and the others had followed suit. He felt bad about just taking things, but the guy in the gun store seemed to be willing to part with them, so he tried to put it out of his mind. "We ready to get a move on?"</p><p>Everyone gathered at the door, and Coach slid the bar up and pushed the safe room door open. The floor was cluttered with dirt and discarded clothing from the store inside. "Keep quiet," Nick muttered as he pulled out his crowbar. The few zombies wandering the floor didn't put up much of a fight, especially since the group had the cover of darkness on their side. The skylight illuminated a set of escalators, silent and still as they climbed up to the second floor.</p><p>There were more zombies at the top of the escalator, and with the sunlight filtering in from above, they didn't have the element of surprise on their side anymore. They were only able to hold off for a short few seconds before Coach had to pull out his shotgun, and the sound attracted even more attention in the form of a horde.</p><p>A zombie managed to break through the fire to swipe at Nick's arm, nails catching into his wrist and knocking his aim off-balance, sending three rounds into the floor. He cried out, lifting his leg to kick the zombie back. Rochelle swung around to shoot it while it was stunned, taking a second to shout, "You alright?"</p><p>"Just keep shooting," Nick hissed between gritted teeth, shaking his wrist out before recovering and continuing to fire.</p><p>Soon enough, the floor was clear, leaving them all breathing sighs of relief. Rochelle turned back to Nick to ask again if he was okay, but what she saw answered that for her. Along his wrist where the zombie had dug its nails into his skin were three bleeding gashes. "Oh - Nick?"</p><p>Nick furrowed his brow, refusing to look at his wrist as he checked the ammunition in his gun. "It's fine. Let's keep moving." He stalked forward, feeling worried eyes burn into his back.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Mall (Part II)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They ducked past a half-open security gate and down another flight of escalators, taking out stray zombies with swift blows to the head. "You should probably do somethin' about those cuts, Nick," Coach said eventually.</p><p>"Not when we're exposed like this." Truthfully, that was only part of the reason Nick wasn't dropping everything to take care of his injury. The other part was a misguided hope. Maybe if he didn't look at it, he could pretend it hadn't happened. "It only spreads through bites," he muttered quietly to himself, ignoring the pit in his stomach. '<em>It only spreads through bites.</em>'</p><p>They came upon the food court, empty and dark and shuttered, and Coach broke the tension in the air to sigh wistfully. "Damn. Poor food court never stood a chance." As they continued, they found that all of the stores were shuttered. But there was a collapsed door that left just enough room for them to climb up and into what looked like a maintenance hallway.</p><p>There was a closed room to their right that Nick shoved open. After making sure it was clear, he went inside, Ellis following behind him. "I got a flashlight," he said, pulling it out of his coveralls and clicking it on. In the limited light, Nick set his guns and weaponry on a shelf before unstrapping the first-aid kit from his back. "Need help?"</p><p>"I got it," he said sharply, quickly sorting through the kit. The bleeding had stopped on its own, thankfully, so he moved on to disinfecting the cuts, hissing as he swiped an alcohol pad over them.</p><p>Ellis watched as Nick pulled out bandages and started to wrap up the wound. "So that's how you do it," he mused quietly, mildly impressed with how quickly Nick moved. When he was done, he flexed his wrist to check that they weren't wrapped too tightly before stepping back into the hallway. It split in two directions further down, both dark and ominous looking. "Which way?" Ellis asked, deferring to the group for opinions.</p><p>Rochelle peered down to the right. It was a straight shot to an illuminated stairway. Looking into the path to the left, she saw another corridor that twisted out of view. "Let's... check the left side first. There might be supplies, at least."</p><p>It wasn't as though there were any signs to follow, so they agreed. There were another few boxes of ammunition and another first aid station in one of the back rooms, but aside from that, the only other thing of note was an empty toy store. They could see zombies milling about outside through the glass. Something about the sight seemed to rattle Coach as he lowered his gun with a somber expression. "Shit," he muttered, shaking his head. "Just... shit."</p><p>Nick shuffled on his feet uncomfortably before speaking, voice low. "Some of the lights are still on around here - probably means the shop alarms work, too. I'd rather not bring the whole mall down on us. Let's go back."</p><p>Rochelle nodded, putting her hand on Coach's shoulder when he didn't budge. "C'mon, Coach," she said gently. He took a deep breath and nodded, following them back into the corridor.</p><p>All that was left was the stairway. There was a body slumped over the railing directly to their right, a sight that startled Ellis enough for him to brandish his crowbar before he realized it was dead. For what may have been the first time since they met, Rochelle saw him truly frown.</p><p>There were zombies in the hallways below, but they were few and far between. With the lights on, they could see blood smeared on the floor leading to another body. This one was curled against the wall, a pistol still gripped in a cold hand. It didn't look infected.</p><p>Nick ushered them on with a quiet "Let's go".</p><p>There were a few more rooms that they dug through just in case. If there had been any supplies in here, though, they were long gone. They finally came along a set of double doors with a sign that read ’EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY - ALARM WILL SOUND’.</p><p>"Damn," Coach said with a heavy sigh. "Looks like this is the only way forward."</p><p>"There's gotta be a security room somewhere... maybe we could turn it off?"</p><p>"Oh!" Ellis perked up, nodding. "Yeah! My buddy Dave snuck in after dark one time to pour some dish soap in the fountain - just to see what would happen, y'know? - and security came out and tased the shit outta him. He had a twitch for like a week -"</p><p>"Ellis," Nick interrupted, raising a hand. "What does that have to do with the alarm?"</p><p>"Oh - they took him up to the office while he was still out of it. Think he said it was on the third floor. So we can just bolt up there."</p><p>"And pray we can shut the alarm off," Coach affirmed, checking that his shotgun was loaded. "Or that there's another way out. We ready?"</p><p>Rochelle swallowed hard, raising her gun and planting herself just behind Coach and to the right. "Now or never," she said, trying to sound confident.</p><p>Ellis took position on Coach's left and Nick hung back to bring up the rear. Coach grit his teeth and, after a moment to psych himself up, kicked the bar of the emergency doors open. Unlike the convenience store, this alarm resonated all around them, echoing into the air so loud it was almost deafening.</p><p>It almost drowned out the screams.</p><p>There was another set of double doors, and the second they opened them, they had to open fire on zombies sprinting at them from what felt like every conceivable corner of the mall. "Get up! Third floor!" Nick yelled. But his voice was just another noise.</p><p>Still, they knew the plan. It was tough going, and Coach ran out of ammunition for his shotgun somewhere on the second floor. He pulled out his pistol and started picking through the crowd. Ellis pulled ahead to the top of the last escalators to pick off zombies crowding behind the group with his scope.</p><p>He didn't hear the Charger over the noise until it bellowed about ten feet away from him. Ellis swung his rifle, but he missed the shot and didn't get a chance to take another before the Charger lowered its head and rammed into him. His scream petered off into a wheezed yelp as he was carried and slammed into the wall. It knocked the air out of him completely, and he could only watch as the Charger's working hand grabbed him like he was nothing and lifted him into the air. His eyes widened as he realized it was about to pound him into the ground.</p><p>But it never got the chance. Just as it was about to slam him back down, its back erupted in bullet holes. Rochelle ran forward, screaming in defiance as she unloaded a full clip into the Charger. It collapsed in a heap, taking Ellis with it to the ground.</p><p>She stared at the body, breathing hard for just a moment before she remembered Ellis underneath it, dazed and coughing hard. "Come on, come on," she urged, helping to pull him up to his feet and slinging his arm over her shoulder.</p><p>"I'm -" Ellis tried to say he was alright, but it was hard to breathe deep enough to speak.</p><p>"Shut up," Rochelle said as she carried him. Nick and Coach had been fending off the horde around them, but Nick immediately started to push forward once he saw Ellis was back up. Sure enough, there was a door marked 'Security' up ahead, and they pushed through to it.</p><p>"Get that alarm off!" Coach yelled as he shoved the door closed behind him, pressing his entire body against the door to keep the zombies from breaking it down off the hinges.</p><p>There was an electric box in the middle of the wall that Nick tore open. Thankfully, there was a button conveniently labeled 'Alarm' that he slammed his fist onto, and the shrill ringing immediately stopped. "Hey, sweetheart, sit him down," he ordered, pointing Rochelle to a metal chair as he grabbed his gun. "Coach, let's clear the rest of these assclowns out."</p><p>Coach grit his teeth and nodded, pulling off of the door and opening it wide. While he and Nick picked off the rest of the horde, Rochelle sat Ellis down in the chair, not even registering what Nick had called her. Ellis groaned in pain as he sat, holding his sides with a grimace.</p><p>"Where's it hurt, Ellis?" she asked gently over the gunfire, eyebrows furrowed.</p><p>"Everywhere," he mumbled, taking a deep breath. "Don't think nothin's broken, though. Just sore."</p><p>She swore quietly. She had no idea how to check if anything was broken - if he had a broken rib, it was going to be bad without medical attention.</p><p>Eventually, the gunfire stopped, and Nick knelt next to her to look Ellis over. "Lemme see." Ellis nodded, dropping his hand to let Nick gently press against his ribs. He winced visibly, but Nick pulled away after just a second. "Doesn't feel broken. Take some of those painkillers, you should be fine for now."</p><p>Rochelle stayed with Ellis while he carefully fished the painkillers out of his first aid kit and swallowed them dry, coughing a little. Meanwhile, Coach helped himself to some boxes of shotgun ammunition in the gun locker behind them. They rested in the security room, reloading and cleaning themselves up until Ellis was able to stand and move around with only a little discomfort. The door led to another set of stairs, going down this time. Another body was collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm getting a bad feelin' about this," Coach muttered.</p><p>"There <em>has</em> to be an evac station," Rochelle said even as she could feel her heart sinking in her chest.</p><p>No one said a word as they exited the stairwell and headed down the new corridor. The lights in here didn't work, but Ellis fished out his pocket flashlight to shine down the hallway. He almost wished he hadn't; there were more bodies here, and only some of them looked to be zombies. Taken aback by the carnage, only Nick took note of a deep growl echoing off of the walls.</p><p>"You guys hear that?" he muttered quietly, raising his gun. The others looked back at him, stopping for a moment to listen. But seeing the confusion on their faces at the silence, he said, "Sounded like something further down. Different."</p><p>Coach frowned, raising his shotgun. "Okay. Everyone move -" He was cut off by a feral scream as a dark shape sprang from the shadows, connecting to him with enough force to knock him back onto the ground. It was dark, and Ellis stumbled back, taking a moment to focus the light.</p><p>The thing on top of Coach had blended into the darkness of the hallway with its dark hoodie. Its clothes were torn, face obscured, but the important thing was its claws. Not nearly as wicked as the crying zombie, but still razor-sharp as it started to claw at Coach's polo, tearing strips away like it was nothing. "GET IT OFF!" Coach screamed, desperately trying to punch the thing away.</p><p>Rochelle raised her gun, but Nick held his arm out. "You might hit him," he warned.</p><p>Ellis was the one to rush forward with his crowbar, knocking the thing upside the head with enough force to stagger it. It fell back, frantically clawing at the ground to get upright again. But Ellis managed to scoop up Coach's shotgun and shot it point-blank. It died with a pathetic yelp, going still on the ground.</p><p>Ellis paused only for a second to make sure the thing wouldn't get back up, a grimace on his face as he turned back around to Coach. The older man was managing to prop himself up on his elbows, but his shirt had been torn to shreds, blood spattering around the tears. "Shit," he groaned, hissing as he touched the wounds.</p><p>"Ro, can you help him up?" She nodded, carefully helping Coach to his feet as Ellis took a deep breath. "Man, that recoil is a bitch. Ow."</p><p>"Gonna guess that was a Hunter then?" Nick said, looking at Rochelle. "You mentioned the pouncing kind back at the hotel."</p><p>"Yeah." Rochelle nodded, not taking her eyes off of Coach. "Damn, he cut you up pretty bad."</p><p>"Let's get to the evac, we can patch it up there." Nick started forward, taking point as Ellis handed back the shotgun.</p><p>There were a few more zombies in the storage room at the end of the hallway that they cleared out, Coach huffing as he brought up the rear of the group. Getting pounced like that had shaken him more than he liked to admit. But nothing beat the sense of despair that filled him as they exited the storage room and finally found the evac center.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The First Aid Lesson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The evac center was completely obliterated.</p><p>Bodies piled up along the floor, painting a picture of an absolute slaughter. "Jesus... what the hell happened here?" Coach muttered, shaking his head at the scene.</p><p>Nick swore under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "They never stood a chance."</p><p>It seemed like whatever had caused the scene had died along with any possible survivors, at least, as they managed to get up to the next floor without issue. "I hope <em>someone</em> got out okay," Coach finally said, voice wistful.</p><p>"Look," Rochelle said, pointing ahead. There was a room with another big, heavy door across from the escalators. "Looks like they set up a safe room."</p><p>They hurried into it, but nothing came out of the shadows to attack them. It was as quiet as a grave - a mass grave.</p><p>Everyone was silent as they shut the door behind them, and Coach sat on a crate with a grunt, looking down at his shirt before groaning. He slid off his first-aid kit and started to poke through it. "We're not getting rescued here," Rochelle finally spoke, voice quiet and shaking. "Are we?"</p><p>"Don't look like it," Ellis replied, shooting her a look equal parts worried and sympathetic.</p><p>"Well, evac station is abandoned and we're in the middle of a zombie-infested mall." Nick flicked the safety on his guns and tossed them onto a table, throwing up his hands as he did. "On the bright side? We're all gonna die."</p><p>"Thanks, Nick," Rochelle said, exasperated. "Great pep talk."</p><p>"Hey, I'm just being realistic." Nick didn't say anything else on the matter, however. Instead, he glanced at Coach, who had managed to pull his shirt off and was sorting through his first-aid kit, brows furrowed. "Ah, Christ. Here."</p><p>"Don't need your help," Coach grumbled as Nick stepped around to kneel in front of him.</p><p>"Sure looks like you do, tough guy." Despite the dirty look he got, Nick turned to let the light shine on Coach's injuries, examining them carefully. They were still bleeding, but not too badly. Nick hummed before pointing to the gauze. "Okay. First step: stop the bleeding. Just hold these on it and we'll check in a few minutes."</p><p>Coach's lips tightened a little, but he eventually relented, unwrapping a few pieces to press against his chest.</p><p>"Okay. There any water in here or something?" Rochelle and Ellis took a few minutes to help Nick look around, eventually finding a few bottles of water. "Soap would be nice too, but..." Nick shook his head, uncapping a bottle to pour the water over his hands.</p><p>"Shit, I'm thirsty," Ellis realized aloud as he watched, reaching down for another bottle and drinking half of it in one pull.</p><p>"We're gonna need more than that if we're not getting rescued. Maybe some of the vending machines still work," Rochelle tried to joke.</p><p>Coach looked up. "Seemed abandoned back there," he said quietly. "Maybe if the two of you stick together... might be somethin' useful in those shops. If we gonna be stuck here, we might as well stock up."</p><p>"I - I was kidding," Rochelle said. But Coach's expression indicated he wasn't. "Should we?"</p><p>"If you do, swap out that rifle," Nick said, reaching up to peel away the gauze. Coach swatted his hand away and did it himself; the bleeding had stopped. Nick handed him the water, instructing him to wash the cuts with it before turning to look at Ellis. "You're a good shot, Overalls, but you need something close-quarters in here."</p><p>Ellis looked at Coach's shotgun and asked quietly, "You mind, sir?"</p><p>"Just don't lose it. And don't wander off too far."</p><p>Rochelle and Ellis checked the ammunition and nodded at each other. "If the lights are off back there, you think the alarms might still be down, too?" she asked, looking to Nick.</p><p>"Probably. Be ready to haul ass if I'm wrong, though."</p><p>"Okay." And with that, Ellis lifted the bar and slid back into the mall, Rochelle close behind him.</p><p>Then it was just Nick and Coach. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a bit as Nick poured some disinfectant on another piece of gauze and started to clean the wounds. "I coulda figured it out," Coach finally said.</p><p>"Well, you watch me, and you can do it yourself next time." Nick didn't sound annoyed, strangely enough, even nodding as Coach passed over the ointment. "So... FHS - high school? Gonna guess... football coach."</p><p>"Mmhm."</p><p>The question had mostly been to break up the awkward silence, and it clearly hadn't worked. So Nick just nodded, sighing as he finished rubbing in the ointment. "Okay. You definitely need help with this part, just 'cause of the location. Lift your arm - gotta wrap diagonally."</p><p>Coach obeyed quietly, watching the way Nick crossed the bandages over his chest and around his back. "Done this before, too?"</p><p>"Yeah. And lucky for you, I've seen worse." Nick leaned back, nodding to himself. "Gonna have to check it again later, keep it clean, but it didn't look too bad."</p><p>Coach breathed out a sigh and slipped his polo back on. "You the type to get in trouble, then." It wasn't a question.</p><p>Nick caught on pretty quickly and sighed as he picked his guns back up, reloading and sorting through the ammunition pile in the corner. "Okay, I get it - guy shows up with a gun, knows how to jimmy a door, patch people up? Hell, I'd be suspicious too. But like I said, it's helping you, so don't think about it too much."</p><p>"You said you were gonna take off."</p><p>"Yeah, well." Nick gestured to the door. "Evac didn't exactly pan out. And the things we've run into... you said it back there. These things wanna pick us off. Going out alone is suicide."</p><p>Coach nodded, sighing as he looked down at his ruined shirt. "Well. You're good with a gun. And... fixin' me up. So if you wanna stick around, that's fine with me."</p><p>"Glad to have your permission."</p><p>Coach shot him a small glare, huffing at the smirk Nick gave him in return. "And to think I was gonna thank your ass."</p><p>"And to think I'd say 'you're welcome'."</p><p>That finally got a little smile out of Coach, although it faded when he spotted the bandages on Nick's wrist. "Although I suppose it won't matter too much if we're wrong about how this shit spreads."</p><p>Nick's mood evaporated as he remembered the scratches, sighing with a shake of his head. "...Well. Suppose we could just shoot each other if we are."</p><p>"Deal."</p><p>Nick snorted, a smirk returning to his face as he settled against the wall. Now all that was left to do was wait for the others.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Supply Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>that nick + coach bonding sure was nice. meanwhile, back in the mall...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rochelle and Ellis were quiet as they ventured from the safe room, Ellis taking point as they slowly made their way around the second floor. Rochelle tried not to look down at the destroyed evac center, shaking her head and asking, "You been to this mall before?"</p><p>"Yeah. Been a while, though." Ellis held the shotgun up close, pulling out his flashlight as they stepped away from the skylight above. "Y'know, I think there was a campin' store or somethin' around here."</p><p>Rochelle stopped, eyebrows raising. "For real? That would be awesome."</p><p>"Think it's on the other end." He nodded forward, and she followed, occasionally turning to make sure there wasn't anything sneaking up behind them. </p><p>The silence as they approached the store was deafening, so Rochelle cleared her throat and said, "Sooo... auto shop, right? You good with cars?"</p><p>Ellis beamed back at her, seemingly appreciating the attempt at conversation. Or, possibly, the idea of talking in general. "Yeah! Always liked tinkerin' and stuff. S'why I was late to the evac. See, I built up a truck to be completely zombie-proof, was just gonna drive outta Savannah." Rochelle nodded along, lifting her ax as, sure enough, they approached a camping store. "But the problem was, it wasn't as zombie-proof as I thought. I guess it was one'a those Charger thingies? Came outta nowhere, wrecked my truck to shit."</p><p>"Did you not want to do the evac?"</p><p>"Nah, I thought I could get through. Luckily, I told my buddy Keith to take my ma and get outta here when it all went to shit." Ellis stopped as they reached the store - shuttered, of course, but the windows hadn't been boarded up. "Alright, I'll keep an eye out."</p><p>Rochelle nodded, tightening her grip on the ax before swinging it into the glass. To her surprise, it didn't shatter; it must have been bulletproof glass. It took a few more swings for it to weaken enough that they could kick it in and climb into the shop. Once they were sure the shop was empty, Rochelle continued her questions. "Just your mom?"</p><p>Ellis shined his light along the aisles, looking for anything that might catch his interest. "Yeah. My daddy died when I was in high school - car accident. And I don't got any brothers or sisters or anythin' - 'cept Keith, he might as well be a brother."</p><p>"Sorry to hear that," she said genuinely. Before she could ask who Keith was, the flashlight grazed past a glass case, and she directed Ellis back to it. It was full of knives. "These might be useful."</p><p>"Ohh, yeah! Little better than my Swiss army knife, at least. Break it open, girl."</p><p>Rochelle rolled her shoulder. This glass did shatter, and she couldn't help but whoop before remembering that the zombies seemed to be attracted to loud noises. Ellis laughed out loud once they were sure they hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. "Sorry. Got excited for a second there. This kind of feels awesome."</p><p>"Shit, it <i>looks</i> awesome." Ellis brushed away some glass to reach into the case and pick up a serrated knife. "This looks good. Sturdy." He dug around the shelves nearby until he found a sheath that he could strap to his leg.</p><p>Rochelle nodded, a little impressed - she'd only ever seen pocket knives before. "Alright. Food... maybe a backpack or two to carry everything?"</p><p>Ellis nodded, lifting the flashlight back up as they started another patrol around the store. They found the backpacks pretty quickly, but he had to boost her up to grab their best prospect: a couple of big packs with a lot of pockets. Then it was just a matter of picking out food, a couple more flashlights, batteries, and some emergency blankets for good measure.</p><p>It wasn't too bad of a haul, all things considered, and between the two backpacks, there was plenty of storage for it all. Rochelle hefted one over her shoulders and nodded at Ellis. "Okay. Let's grab more water and get back to the safe room."</p><p>A few zombies had managed to find their way towards them by the time they climbed out of the store. Ellis took care of them as Rochelle broke open the vending machine and grabbed as many water bottles as she could fit into the bag. After some thought, she also took some chips and candy bars.</p><p>The trip back to the safe room was uneventful; they were lucky it was only a handful of zombies and not another horde. Ellis did a couple of quick, rhythmic knocks on the safe house door, and Coach's face appeared through the bars as he unlocked it to let them in.</p><p>Rochelle immediately started tossing out granola bars, tearing into one. She hadn't realized she was hungry until she took the first bite, forcing herself to slow down and actually taste her food. "Is this weird? That we're hungry right now?" she asked after a moment.</p><p>"Nah," Ellis said, having already finished his. "Just 'cause shit's crazy don't mean we don't still gotta eat."</p><p>"Think I've lost three pounds just runnin' around today," Coach said, fully relaxing on his crate.</p><p>"You got plenty to spare."</p><p>"Shut up, Nick."</p><p>Rochelle laughed into her granola.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Atrium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Who the hell is Jimmy Gibbs Jr.?"</p><p>Ellis looked up. Nick was looking at a poster posted just above the ammunition table. "Only the best stock car racer who ever lived, Nick. Guess you don't read much history."</p><p>Nick rolled his eyes. "He looks like an asshole."</p><p>Coach sat up, eyes narrowing, but Ellis beat him to the punch. For the first time, his voice dropped any remnants of cheerfulness as he said, "Now you hold on a second. You've been actin' all stuffy since we met and I've held my tongue, but you do <em>not</em> belittle Jimmy Gibbs Jr."</p><p>"Hell yeah," Coach said, nodding along. "That man's the pride of Georgia. 'Round these parts, he's as famous as... Elvis. Or the president."</p><p>"I would take a bullet for that man," Ellis said solemnly.</p><p>Rochelle glanced sidelong at Nick, and he met her eyes, looking utterly baffled. She couldn't hold back a snort, and she was a little pleased to see him smirk right along with her.</p><p>Ellis peered a little closer at the poster, face falling as he read. "Aw, hell. I coulda got my picture taken with Jimmy Gibbs's stock car? I hate this apocalypse." And then... he paused. Slowly, his lips pursed, brows furrowing in concentration. Rochelle could practically see the gears turning in his head.</p><p>"Ellis?" she asked cautiously.</p><p>"Hm. Pictures with the stock car - that means it's here, doesn't it?" Everyone watched as he slowly turned around, hands spread. "Maybe it could be our way outta here. We re-appropriate it, and I can drive us to New Orleans my-damn-self!"</p><p>"Holy shit," Nick said, eyebrows raising. "That's... not a bad idea."</p><p>Coach stood up with a grunt, holding his hand out to Ellis for a mid-five. "Good thinkin', Ellis."</p><p>Ellis slapped his hand, his grin slipping just for a second. "I mean - only problem is they don't usually gas up the cars at car shows. But there might be some lying around."</p><p>"Gas tanks in a mall?"</p><p>"I mean, someone built this safe room. Maybe there are more survivors further in - I dunno, Nick, but what other choice we got?"</p><p>Nick sighed, then nodded. "No - no, you're right. Okay. So we find the car, gas it up, and get the hell outta here. It’s better than my plan, at least."</p><p>"What was your plan?" Rochelle asked, slinging the strap of her gun over her shoulder.</p><p>"Stay here and die."</p><p>Coach snorted.</p><p>With the door behind them barred shut, Ellis peered out of the opposite door. He could see another dimly lit hallway and hear the sound of shuffling in the distance. "Alright. I'm ready, y'all ready?"</p><p>"Let's get going," Rochelle agreed.</p><p>Coach and Nick picked off the few zombies in the hallway with their guns. After a quick bathroom detour (thankfully, the plumbing still worked), they exited out into the mall’s atrium. The stairs were all blocked off, but there was an elevator on the other side of a walkway that still seemed to work. As they stepped inside, Ellis pressed his face to the window and said, "There she is!" On the bottom floor, preceded by a multi-story banner, a blue and white stock car sat on a platform just by the front doors.</p><p>Coach hit the button for the first floor, and as the elevator began to descend, he turned to the group. "Alright. Probably gonna get some attention once we get down there. Clear it out, split off in twos, and grab the gas. Ellis, you're with me."</p><p>Nick glanced at Rochelle and huffed, a smirk coming back to his face. "Don't slow me down, sweetheart," he said, having the gall to wink at her.</p><p>"Don't think I won't leave your ass here."</p><p>Coach shot them both a warning look, but to Rochelle's surprise, Nick just laughed softly and turned to face the elevator doors, gun at the ready. Rochelle couldn't help but smile to herself and do the same. The doors opened, and a small collection of zombies outside rushed towards the sound, snarling. Rochelle and Nick put them down easily, and they split off into two groups.</p><p>Nick stumbled upon some gas cans on the far end of the mall... as well as an uninfected corpse leaned against a planter, curled in on itself. "Shit. Guess there <em>were</em> survivors," Rochelle said softly as Nick picked up a gas can, shaking it.</p><p>"These are pretty full. Cover me."</p><p>With two gas cans, one in each hand, Nick hurried back to the car while Rochelle followed, picking off zombies as they approached. Coach seemed to have the same idea coming from the opposite direction, and they set the cans down by the car just as a roar echoed through the atrium. "Here they come!" Ellis hollered. "Keep 'em off me, I'll fill it up!"</p><p>Nick nodded back, gesturing for Rochelle and Coach to stand at his sides just off of the platform, forming a small triangle as a swarm of zombies started to flood into the atrium. It was a solid line of defense. Some of the zombies were smart enough to try and flank around the car, but Coach put them down before they could get too close to Ellis.</p><p>"Okay!" Ellis finished pouring the fourth tank in and drew his gun, stepping down to join in clearing the rest of the zombies out. "These tanks usually hold like 17 gallons - two more should do it!"</p><p>"Jesus Christ," Nick said, both at the news and at a zombie that managed to fall forward as it died, nearly careening into him.</p><p>Soon, the horde thinned into a trickle, and Coach motioned for them to move to the stairs. "Let's check the next floor," he urged, taking out the last zombie with a shotgun blast to the face. "We only need two - let's go together."</p><p>They settled into two rows, Ellis and Coach in front while Rochelle and Nick brought up the back. The second floor was boarded off, so they had to climb up to the third floor. A few more zombies were milling about that Ellis picked off with his rifle, but it took a minute for them to find another gas can.</p><p>"There might be another one on the second floor," Rochelle said, peering down over the ledge.</p><p>Nick gestured to the staircase. "Yeah, but how do we get there?"</p><p>"There's another stairway at the other end of the mall. We can drop this off on the way."</p><p>Coach was panting a little from all the climbing as they headed back down to the ground floor. As he bent over, hands on his knees to catch his breath, Ellis went ahead and added the can to the tank. "You gonna be okay, Coach?" Nick asked, raising a brow.</p><p>"Too many... goddamn stairs," Coach grumbled. He finally stood up straight with a sigh, gesturing to the stairs at the other end of the atrium. "Okay. Let's go."</p><p>They hadn't taken two steps when they heard it. A low, feral growl from somewhere behind a barricaded door and a heavy, rumbling footstep. "Uh... guys?" Rochelle said quietly. Before anyone could respond, there was a thundering crash as the door was smashed outwards by a massive, meaty fist. "<em>Guys</em>?!" she said again, voice rising in panic.</p><p>Unfortunately, the volume got the attention of whatever was behind the door. With a booming roar and one more solid punch, the door came apart in an explosion of splinters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The Tank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The biggest fucking thing any of them had ever seen pulled itself from the doorway with a snarl, easily ten feet tall and half as wide. It looked to be made of pure muscle, skin angry and pink and lesioned. It stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on the group as they froze. And then, it roared and started to charge, carrying itself on its knuckles like a gorilla.</p><p>"Big fucking problem!" Nick yelled, raising his gun to start shooting.</p><p>"Holy shit, HOLY SHIT!" Ellis screamed, stumbling back in panic. Rochelle squeezed the trigger, emptying an entire clip into the massive thing in front of them. But it barely even seemed to register the shots, continuing to make a beeline straight for them.</p><p>"Shit - back it up, back it up!" Coach yelled, starting to fire his shotgun as the distance closed between them and the zombie.</p><p>Ellis backed all the way up into a mall kiosk, hitting the counter with a weird clink. Blinking, he looked down and saw the bottle still strapped to his leg. The Boomer puke! Ellis's eyebrows furrowed as he saw movement on the upper floors of the mall - more zombies.</p><p>He pulled out the jar, took a deep breath, and ran forward where the others were backing away. "Eat puke, you sunnuvabitch!" he yelled, following through into the best curveball he had ever thrown.</p><p>The jar shattered against the zombie's skin, the liquid inside splattering all over its face and arms. The smell that rose was instantly revolting, but importantly, it got the thing to stop, screaming in rage as it pawed at its face.</p><p>"It's blind!" Nick said, pointing to the cover of the kiosks. "Flank it, don't let it get a bead on you! Ellis, go get the last can!" Ellis hesitated for a second, eyes wide as he glanced between Nick and the big zombie. Nick shot him a look and barked, "Go!" The younger survivor bolted for the stairway to the second floor.</p><p>They spread out, never stopping the assault of gunfire even as zombies started to pour down the stairs and over railings. One pushed right past Coach, not even offering him a second look as it charged towards the smell. Meanwhile, the massive zombie slammed its hands down, fingers digging into the tile. Nick lowered his gun, watching in horror as it tore up the ground underneath it in a massive chunk and blindly chucked it... in Rochelle's direction. "ROCHELLE!" he managed to scream.</p><p>She had been just about to duck behind a pillar when she heard the warning, and she turned just in time to see the rubble flying at her. Nick could only watch as it landed and she disappeared. "Holy shit!"</p><p>The massive zombie started forward at the sound of Nick's voice, bile still clouding its vision, but at this point, zombies had started to pile onto it. It could barely move under the weight, clawing at the bodies crawling over it. The few it managed to get a grasp on were sent flying across the atrium, collapsing and crumpling at the force. Coach and Nick saw the opportunity for what it was and unloaded into it. Even as it fell to its knees, spent and dying, Nick kept pulling the trigger until his gun clicked empty. Coach cleaned up the remaining zombies, and then all was silent.</p><p>They paused for only a second before Coach turned to look at the chunk of flooring sticking out the ground and said, "Ro." He ran to the rubble, and Nick followed behind, knowing what he would see: her body broken and crumbled under the rubble.</p><p>Except she wasn't. She had managed to jump behind the pillar just in time to dodge the worst of it, although she was holding her thigh as they rounded the corner. She gasped at the sight of them, and Coach immediately pulled her up into a hug. "Shit, girl, you right?"</p><p>"Yeah," she said, hugging onto him tightly. "I fell - Jesus - I almost -"</p><p>"Let's go," Nick said, voice cold. Rochelle looked at him, but he refused to meet her eyes, turning away. "Let's make sure Ellis isn't dead up there somewhere."</p><p>Coach turned to look, eyebrows furrowed, but the suit was gone before either of them could say anything. They followed after him, Coach muttering something under his breath, but Rochelle was quiet as she grabbed her gun. The panic in Nick's voice when he'd called out to her and the fact he wouldn't meet her eyes - that meant something, she was sure.</p><p>She decided that the coldness stemmed from fear. He would have had a clear view of her being crushed under the rubble - that would have shaken anyone. But she didn't have much time to consider it; every step sent a flash of pain through her leg. She had fallen hard on a chunk of concrete and tile in her jump to safety. A small price to pay for living.</p><p>Ellis met them halfway down the staircase, gas can in tow, panting and wild-eyed as he nodded to them. "Last one! Let's go!"</p><p>They got to the car and had twisted the cap off of the can when another collective scream echoed through the Atrium. "Shit - Ellis," Nick warned, reaching back into his jacket for his Magnum.</p><p>"One more second! Start pilin' in, y'all!" As Coach helped Rochelle into the stock car, Ellis poured the gas into the tank, tossing the can aside when it was empty and quickly closing the fuel cap. He slid into the driver's seat and started flipping switches, whooping as the engine roared to life. "Seatbelts on, y'all, we're goin' out the front!"</p><p>Nick opened his mouth to say something, but Ellis hit the gas before he got the chance. The car lurched forward, pulling slightly to the right before Ellis could correct the course, and he started driving directly towards the boarded-up front doors of the mall.</p><p>"Ellis!" Rochelle screamed in panic just as they hit the door and flew through it. Zombies had milled outside of the doors, exploding outward and upward as they collided with the car. They hit the ground hard, and Ellis shifted gears to tear out of the parking lot and onto Interstate 16.</p><p>Everyone was silent as they watched Liberty Mall get further and further away. Eventually, Ellis started laughing. Rochelle joined in, and soon enough they were all in hysterics. "That was fucking <em>insane</em>!" Nick yelled after a moment, wiping tears from his eyes.</p><p>"That big-ass thing," Coach said, slamming his hand on the back of the driver's seat. "That was like some... super-ass zombie!"</p><p>"I can't believe we took it down!" Rochelle slumped back in her seat, shaking her head. "Ellis, good thinking with that bomb."</p><p>Ellis grinned back at her, swiftly maneuvering the few cars that dotted the stretch of road. "Only just remembered it myself," he said, turning to stare at the dashboard in front of him in awe. "Ho-lee shit, y'all. And now I'm drivin' stock car royalty."</p><p>Nick sighed, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the grate behind him. His eyes drifted shut for just a moment before he asked, "Anyone get bit?"</p><p>Again, everyone did a brief check. Aside from scrapes and bruises, they had somehow managed to get out without catching any teeth. "That reminds me, though," Coach said, voice turning serious. "Nick and I got scratched up. This shit only spreads through bites, right?"</p><p>Rochelle opened her mouth, then stopped, eyes widening slightly. "Uh... they never... CEDA never actually said that. As far as I know... they don't know how it spreads."</p><p>Nick sat upright again, slowly turning to look at her. "Are you for fucking real?"</p><p>"I wish I was. Everyone just kind of assumed it spread through bites. But I think it takes a couple of hours to turn, either way."</p><p>Ellis hummed quietly, resting his arm on the windowsill. The interstate was clear now - anyone that had taken this way out of Savannah was long gone. "We can pull off at the next station... wait it out."</p><p>Coach nodded, exhaling through his nose. "A'ight. Next station."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>20 chapters just for the first campaign, smh these guys need all the help they can get</p><p>Many thanks to everyone that's been enjoying this so far! I love all of you. Stay safe out there!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Interlude I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took about ten more minutes of driving for them to find an off-ramp to a gas station. As they raided the coolers and racks for still-chilled Cokes and chips, Coach stared up at a clock, dumbfounded. Five o'clock in the afternoon. When he had left the school, it was just about one-thirty. Three and a half hours felt both too long and not long enough for how much shit they had seen.</p><p>"I think we're clear," he said eventually, glancing at Nick. "Ro said it takes a couple of hours. It's been at least that long."</p><p>"We could check your scratches, Nick," Ellis said, pulling out his flashlight. "See if they... look infected, I guess? You got hit first."</p><p>Nick had been fidgeting since they stepped foot in the gas station, eyebrows furrowed as he kept watch. He had switched between smoothing over his bandages and twisting the rings on his fingers, sitting up in attention as Ellis spoke. He took a deep breath and stood, rolling up his sleeve.</p><p>They all held their breath as Nick slowly unwrapped the bandages from his wrist. The scratches were still red and sore, but they were already starting to scab. "I ain't a doctor," Coach said, peering at the injury. "But I'd think that's healing up good."</p><p>Nick breathed out a heavy sigh, nodding to himself. "Yeah. I guess we're in the clear. Now we just need to figure out where we're going."</p><p>With a little scrounging around in a magazine rack, Rochelle found a map, spreading it out on the counter of the station and clicking on her own flashlight. Coach came around to her side and traced along a line. "We’re on the 16 headin'... west. Up towards Atlanta."</p><p>"Okay, but Atlanta's gone."</p><p>Coach shot Nick a look that quieted him. "Yeah, but we can follow the 75, get off on the 85, and then, it's a straight shot to N'awlins. Should only take about a day."</p><p>"Not including pit stops." Rochelle shook her head. "I dunno about you fine gentlemen, but I can't sit still that long."</p><p>"Man, I ain't been to New Orleans in a dog's age," Ellis said, eyes brightening again. "I'm excited. Y'all excited?"</p><p>"We survive this, I'll be fucking ecstatic." Nick pushed away from the counter, heading back towards the bathrooms.</p><p>"Let's stretch our legs and get back to it. We got a long drive ahead of us."</p><p>While they waited for Nick, some literal writing on the walls caught Rochelle's attention. She crossed her arms, shining her light on the words.</p><p>
  <em>run from the big ones!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heard them called Tanks</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Calvin, went to Macon to find Rachel. Evac is in New Orleans. I'll meet you there! - Suzy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stay Away from the ones that cry I saw one RIP Apart ten people Listen for them and WALK AROUND!!</em>
</p><p>Rochelle paused at that, briefly thinking back to the crying girl wandering the highway back in Savannah. The thought that they were literal feet from her sent a chill down her spine. She shook her head as if to rid herself of the thought and read on.</p><p>
  <em>They can't change back Don't take them w/you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>ISAIAH 48:10</em>
</p><p>"The Bible?" she muttered to herself.</p><p>"'I have refined thee, but not with silver'," Coach recited, brows furrowing.</p><p>"'I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction'," Nick's voice finished. They turned to see him standing in the hallway, hands in his pockets and scowling. "Not exactly what I call refinement."</p><p>"You know the Bible, Nick?" Coach raised a brow.</p><p>"Bits and pieces." Nick picked up his gun, sliding it into the holster and looking at them expectantly. "We ready?"</p><p>They looked between each other and, after grabbing some more jerky for the road, bid farewell to the gas station. The sun was starting to set in full as they piled back into the car. "Just keep following through to the 85."</p><p>Ellis nodded, sighing happily at the sound of the engine. "Jimmy Gibbs, Jr., thank you for the car."</p><p>Nick rolled his eyes as they pulled back onto the interstate. He propped his chin on his knuckles and stared out the window at the passing scenery, watching as dark clouds started to roll in on the horizon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. The Survivors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Y'know, this one time, my buddy Keith wanted to see what it felt like to be in a snowstorm."</p><p>The rain had hit about half an hour after they'd left the gas station. The sky had darkened, taking with it any sliver of light from the setting sun. It was a light rain, thankfully, but Ellis flicked on the headlights and slowed down to avoid drifting.</p><p>"See, he ain't ever seen real snow," he continued, not even bothering to see if anyone was listening. "Only snow we get is from the big machine that cleans the ice at the local rink, so he just figured he'd make do with the machine when it went to dump its load."</p><p>Nick snorted immaturely and Rochelle sleepily reached up to swat his arm.</p><p>"Figured he'd just lay under it. Man, it took us two hours to dig him out. He lost two fingers and a thumb to frostbite."</p><p>"Ellis," Coach said, just starting to wake up from his nap. "Your friend is crazy."</p><p>"Oh, absolutely. See, he just gets real bored real quick, and... y'know that little voice in your head, tells you not to do stuff? He don't got that."</p><p>Rochelle rolled her eyes, smiling to herself for just a moment. She soon noticed, however, that the calm scenery was being replaced with brick buildings. "Hey, slow it down a bit," she said, touching Ellis's shoulder.</p><p>"Oh - this is Rayford." Ellis obeyed, shutting off his headlights as they entered the relative safety of street lights. "Shit. Forgot the 16 comes through here."</p><p>"Just keep an eye out. Should be a bridge we can cross over to get through." There were zombies in the shadows of the town that, thankfully, didn't seem to pay much mind to the dark car rolling slowly down the streets of Rayford. It was uneventful until they rolled up to a bridge and Coach moaned, "Aw, no..."</p><p>The bridge was raised and impossible to get to from the car. Ellis slumped in the driver's seat, staring at the sight before turning back to look at Coach. "Any other way across?"</p><p>Coach shook his head slowly. Ellis sighed and killed the engine. "Maybe... maybe there's a control panel around here or something," Nick said, grabbing his bag from between his knees. Carefully, they all piled out of the car and took a look around. There was a safety grate leading to a ledge below, but other than that, it was a complete dead end.</p><p>"Well... shit," Rochelle said, sighing heavily. "So much for that."</p><p>"What now?" Nick said, crossing his arms and looking at Coach.</p><p>The oldest member of the group shook his head, looking up at the bridge. His forehead creased in thought. "Uh... we could pull back, head south instead. Would take a hell of a lot longer, take us down through Florida."</p><p>"Florida? Jesus. That's like another three hours," Ellis groaned, pulling off his hat to run a hand through his hair.</p><p>"Either that or we try to... climb up. Find another car on the other side."</p><p>"No way, I ain't leavin' Jimmy Gibbs, Jr." Ellis put his hand on the hood of the stock car, eyes narrowed.</p><p>"Ellis, it's just a car. There are plenty of other cars," Nick said, exasperated.</p><p>"'Just a car'?! That's like - that's like saying the Mona Lisa is <em>just</em> a sculpture or shit, man! That's like saying Jimmy Gibbs is <em>just</em> a driver!"</p><p>"Well, I have no problem leaving it - and <em>you</em> - behind."</p><p>"Nick -" Rochelle started to speak.</p><p>"You down there!" A harsh, male voice interrupted, calling down through the rain, and the group turned to look back towards the bridge. A man was standing on a railing towards the top, a stark contrast to the dark sky. Even from a distance, Rochelle could see both of his arms were covered in tattoos. He lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture that belied his tough appearance. "Be calm! I am a cop!"</p><p>Rochelle breathed out a sigh and waved. "Hi! Hello!"</p><p>"Hello yourself," the man said, taking a moment to eye her up and down before shooting her a finger-gun. "Now, are any of you vampires?"</p><p>Rochelle's smile froze on her face as she stared up at the stranger. "What?"</p><p>"Vampires. Any of you vampires? It's an easy question."</p><p>"You mean zombies?" Nick clarified.</p><p>"Whatever. Answer the goddamn question!"</p><p>"Francis, stop it!" Another voice joined the man on the bridge as a girl stepped forward, leaning over to peer at the group with an apologetic smile. She looked close to Ellis's age, black hair tied back and weighted down from the rain as she gestured to her companion. "Hello down there! Sorry about that. It's been a while since we've seen other people around here."</p><p>"Oh my god," Rochelle said, laughing in relief. "I was starting to think I was the last woman alive!"</p><p>"Yeah... I know the feeling."</p><p>Ellis, meanwhile, had gone silent, staring up at the duo on the bridge with wide eyes. He barely even blinked. Nick nudged his arm with a raised brow and got no response.</p><p>"Nice to see others survivin' out here," Coach said, finally offering a tight smile. "Any chance you can get this bridge down for us?"</p><p>The girl on the bridge shook her head with a grimace. "Sorry. The generator ran out of gas. If you can get to the other side, we could cover you while you fill it -"</p><p>"Hell no, Zoey," the man - Francis - said, standing up straight. "I ain't helping no goddamn vampires!"</p><p>"We're not vampires!" Nick said, anger starting to creep into his voice. "Jesus Christ, I thought <em>Ellis</em> was dumb."</p><p>"Nick!" Rochelle scolded. But Ellis was still staring up at the strangers, seemingly having not heard him. "Sorry - so just get to the other side and we can lower it?"</p><p>"Yeah," the girl - Zoey - said, nodding. "It's a bit of a detour, but we can't exactly get down from here right now. One of ours got hurt, he can't move just yet."</p><p>"No worries," Coach said, waving it off. "Thanks! We'll meet ya at the other end."</p><p>Francis and Zoey disappeared past the bridge, falling into a conversation out of the others' hearing range as they went. Rochelle sighed, hugging herself with a small shiver. The rain wasn't letting up, and it was chilly standing this close to the river. "Okay. So... let's grab our stuff and figure out how to get over there."</p><p>Ellis still hadn't moved, and Nick smacked him in the arm with a hand. "Cleetus."</p><p>"That was the prettiest girl I ever seen," Ellis finally said, voice soft and full of wonder.</p><p>Nick stopped, eyebrows raising in surprise. Rochelle snorted a quiet laugh, covering her mouth to hide her smile. Coach just sighed, shaking his head and shoving Ellis's sniper rifle towards him. "C'mon, Ellis, we need to get a move on."</p><p>Ellis blinked, seeming to finally come to his senses as he flushed. "Sorry. Uh - shouldn't someone stay with the car?"</p><p>"No," Nick said curtly. Seeing the flash of hurt in Ellis's eyes, he sighed. "Ellis, the car will be fine."</p><p>Ellis looked back at the car and put a hand on it, frowning. "We'll be right back, alright? Don't you go nowhere."</p><p>Rochelle raised an eyebrow at Coach, shaking her head as they finally started to move back down the street. "Well. At least the police are still around."</p><p>Nick snorted. "That guy was no cop."</p><p>"How do you know?"</p><p>"You ever see a cop dressed as a greasy biker, Ro? Besides, I know cops." Nick didn't elaborate on that last part. Instead, he led them to a small park on the left and nodded to it. "Let's see if we can find another way across."</p><p>There were zombies in the park, of course, slowly milling about. The group cleared them out pretty quickly, hurrying to a set of stairs leading back to some storefronts. Most of the shops were boarded off, but one had a door made of glass. Inside, the lights were still on. "We could cut through here -" Ellis barely managed to get the words out of his mouth when Nick lifted a leg and kicked the glass in. "Jesus! Calm down, man!"</p><p>"Sorry," Nick laughed. He was smiling as he reached in and turned the lock, clearly not sorry in the slightest.</p><p>They filed into the store, paper and broken glass crinkling under their feet. "Looks like someone tried to hold out here," Rochelle commented, reaching down to grab a submachine gun that had been discarded on the floor.</p><p>"It loaded?" Ellis said, stopping to strap his sniper rifle to his back.</p><p>Rochelle fumbled a little to slide out the clip and nodded. She held it out to him. "Yeah. It looks a bit low, though. Be careful."</p><p>Ellis took the gun gratefully, looking up just in time to catch Nick watching the entire exchange. He quickly looked away when Ellis caught his eye, heading over to the next door. Ellis smiled to himself before following, adjusting the gun in his hands. He preferred the feel of the rifle, but if he'd learned anything in the mall, it was that he needed a back-up weapon. The last thing he needed was to get pinned by another Charger with no way to defend himself.</p><p>They were picking through a first-aid station in the bathroom when they heard a high-pitched squeal echoing down the hall. "Oh boy," Rochelle sighed, lifting her rifle. "Sounds like another special." They had agreed on the term 'specials' at some point between the mall and gas station as a collective name for the weirder zombies. This was a new sound, though, so they were much more cautious going back into the hall.</p><p>Coach opened the door at the far end to a tall, female zombie. She was faced away from them, but even from behind, she looked... different. Taller, with the smallest peek of a pink thong sticking out above her jeans. She turned towards them at the sound of the door, and Rochelle couldn't hold back a quiet sound of disgust.</p><p>The zombie's face was pretty much split across at the mouth, a maw of red meat and teeth. Coach had the sense to back up as fluid started to dribble from her mouth, arms outstretched to push the others behind him. She shrieked, rearing back to spit a ball of bright green substance into the hallway. The fluid spread quickly along the ground, bubbling and sizzling, but stopped just before Coach's feet. Ellis quickly drew his rifle and put a round into the zombie's head. As she fell, more of the fluid dripped from her mouth and pooled around her.</p><p>"Spitter," Rochelle said, nodding to herself.</p><p>"What is this nasty shit?" Nick peered down, eyes narrowed as the fluid on the floor darkened and stopped bubbling.</p><p>"Let's not find out the hard way," Coach said, moving forward into the stairwell and nudging the Spitter's body away from the door with his foot. The others followed, gripping their guns tighter as they made their way upstairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. The Wedding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a footlocker in one of the open offices as they reached the second floor that Ellis only noticed after nearly passing it. "Looks like one'a those military lockers from the movies," he commented as everyone doubled back to look.</p><p>Rochelle leaned down, peering at the latch. "It's not locked..." She reached under the lid and lifted it with a soft grunt.</p><p>Inside was a collection of cylinders. She cautiously picked one up and held it into the light. Electronic bits were fixed onto the metal with a rigid thread sticking out from the top and a button installed just below it. "What is that?" Coach asked, looking to Nick.</p><p>Nick raised a brow, equally puzzled. "Why are you asking <em>me</em>?"</p><p>"You're the expert on sketchy shit around here."</p><p>Nick rolled his eyes with a shrug. "Not this kind of sketchy. Your guess is as good as mine. But that thread kind of looks like a fuse."</p><p>"Pipe bomb?" Ellis suggested. "Wonder what that button is for?"</p><p>Rochelle pressed her thumb down on it. The high-pitched beeping that immediately started sounding from the thing startled her so much that she nearly dropped it, the others jumping away from the locker. A snarl echoed down from the street below and, panicked, she chucked the bomb through the open window to her right.</p><p>"Holy shit." Nick burst into laughter, bending over with his hands on his knees.</p><p>"Well - what was I supposed to do?!" Rochelle shot back, cheeks darkening.</p><p>Ellis peered out of the window after the bomb. It had clattered uselessly to the street, still beeping. A red light was blinking in the dark of the night outside, and a handful of zombies climbed out from behind cars to swarm around it. "Ohhh," he said as he realized what was happening. "It lights up, too - distracts 'em before blowin'."</p><p>"Assuming you light it first."</p><p>Rochelle shot Nick a dirty look that only made him start laughing again. She stood and briskly brushed past him back into the hallway. Coach shook his head and couldn't hide a smile even as he trailed behind. Ellis took two of the bombs, handing one over to Nick before following.</p><p>The humor evaporated when they checked the next room and saw a body seated at a desk. It was slumped back in a chair, the wall behind it spattered with blood and brain matter. Rochelle could faintly see a pistol dangling from its limp hand, and it wasn't hard to piece together what had happened. "Jesus," she muttered, averting her eyes as Coach said a little prayer.</p><p>There was nothing in the room that they could scavenge even if they had wanted to, so they moved on through an empty, disheveled bar. Nick eyed a bottle of whiskey hungrily. "God, I'd kill for a drink right now."</p><p>"Try to hold on," Coach said, resting a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Least 'til we get to N'awlins."</p><p>Nic shrugged the hand away and sighed. "No, Coach, I'm gonna get trashed right now."</p><p>"If you do, I ain't carrying you back to the Jimmy Gibbs, Jr."</p><p>The only other door led to a back alley. "So, Rochelle," Ellis said as they made their way past abandoned cars and the occasional zombie. "Don't spare my feelings none - you think I got any shot with that Zoey girl?"</p><p>Rochelle smiled back at him. "Sweetie, you gotta actually <em>talk</em> to her first."</p><p>"No - I mean, yeah, I know, but after that."</p><p>Nick snorted, turning around to walk backward as he looked at Ellis. The warning look Rochelle gave him went ignored as he teased, "Kid, she is <em>way</em> out of your league."</p><p>Ellis pouted at him, but any retort he could give was interrupted by a wet gurgle reverberating off of the alley walls. Coach unclipped his flashlight, the others scanning the street in the limited light. "Boomer," he muttered. "Watch your step, y'all."</p><p>They managed to get a little further down the alley before they finally saw it - an incredibly bloated zombie, female this time. Ellis pulled out his rifle and took her out with one shot. "Boom!" he cheered as the Boomer exploded in a spray of gore.</p><p>"Seriously, Ellis - how do you do that?" Rochelle said as they continued. The road ahead was blocked off, so they diverted onto a ramp to their left.</p><p>Ellis shrugged. "I dunno. S'just easy to me."</p><p>They got halfway up the ramp when a sob echoed through the air above them. "Shit," Coach said, brows furrowed. "Crying zombie."</p><p>Nick snorted. "Sounds like my ex-wife." Despite the cavalier tone in his voice, it didn't quite reach the rest of him. He shook his head and tilted his chin. "Let's keep moving."</p><p>There was an unfinished duplex at the top of the ramp. Thankfully, it was unlocked; the rain was threatening to transform from a drizzle into a proper downpour. They all hurried inside, the rain hitting the roof like a drum beat. There was no sign of zombies in the building, so Coach took the opportunity to seat himself on the floor with a heavy sigh. Ellis volunteered to keep watch, parking himself next to the window while the others caught their breath. "<em>Ex</em>-wife, huh?" Rochelle finally said after a minute of silence. "Why am I not surprised, fancy man?"</p><p>To her surprise, the glare he gave her was completely devoid of humor. She had never seen 'don't go there' communicated so clearly in just a look before - clearly, she had touched a sore spot. So, smile fading, she cleared her throat and turned her attention to her gun. Coach had seen the entire exchange and sighed, leveling a gaze at Nick. "It's not like you're the only one, Nick. Shit, <em>I</em> got an ex."</p><p>"Oh neat. Is yours a fucking harpy bitch, too?" The venom in Nick's voice pretty quickly shut that route of conversation down, filling the air with an awkward silence. For a long moment, the only sounds were the rain outside and the clicks of gun maintenance.</p><p>Finally, the rain started to subside, and Ellis stood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Alright, y'all, rain's lettin' up. Let's see if there's anything left in here and get a move on."</p><p>There was a dead body on a second landing that they were able to scavenge some more shotgun shells from. The crying got louder as they left the duplex, the patio leading to what looked like a park. Rochelle tightened her grip on her rifle, raising it at the sight of a cluster of zombies. They cleared out pretty quickly, but Ellis knelt next to a body, squinting. It took Rochelle a second to figure out what was so captivating - "Is he wearing a <em>suit</em>?" Indeed, all of the zombies they had just mowed down were in various states of formal wear.</p><p>The reason why became apparent as they came upon a gazebo. Chairs and tents were placed in careful rows, and the source of the crying was centered right at the end of it all - a crying woman, rocking gently on the wooden floor. She was wearing a veil and a tattered, bloodied white dress. "It's a goddamn wedding," Rochelle muttered, lowering her gun in disbelief.</p><p>Nick shook his head, frowning. "God, this is bringing back some bad memories."</p><p>"She's right in the way," Coach whispered, carefully stepping forward to peek around the sides of the gazebo. "Can't get through without dealin' with her."</p><p>"There was some graffiti back in Savannah," Rochelle whispered, swallowing hard. "Said they saw one of those things rip people apart."</p><p>For a long moment, they sat there, watching the crying girl and hoping that maybe she'd get up and move like the one back in Savannah. But even as another handful of zombies blew past to attack the group, she just sat there and wailed. "We can't just sit here forever," Nick said, pulling his crowbar from a zombie's skull.</p><p>Any argument the others could have made was cut off by a choked, wheezing cry. Their eyes immediately turned back to the zombie in the gazebo, but she still hadn't moved. What <em>did</em> move was a long, fleshy thing shooting out from behind her that connected with Ellis's leg, wrapping around him. He only had time to say "What the hell -" before the thing pulled, and he was knocked flat onto his back. Dazed, he could only watch as he was violently and quickly pulled towards the gazebo.</p><p>"<em>Shit</em>!" Nick yelled, raising his Magnum to look for whatever had snared Ellis. Eventually, he spotted it - a tall zombie standing just on the other end, giant cysts covering its neck. A Smoker, he guessed. He took a deep breath, stilled, and pulled the trigger. It took a few hits, but he eventually nailed the thing, the cysts popping and exploding in a cloud of smoke as it fell, dead. Its tongue dropped, leaving Ellis laying on his back right at the foot of the gazebo... and only a few feet away from the crying zombie.</p><p>As he sat up with a groan, she stopped crying, head jerking up with a surprised gasp. Her yellow eyes locked onto his, and any sorrow quickly evaporated into anger as she started to growl, slowly rising to her feet. "Shit shit shit -" Ellis whispered, scrambling in a vain hope that he could put distance between them and knocking over a few chairs in his attempted escape.</p><p>Just as Coach started to sprint forward to help him, the girl stretched out her arms and let out a deafening shriek before lunging.</p><p>"Fucking shoot!" Nick screamed, turning his aim to the new threat while Rochelle lifted her rifle. Coach swore, ducking down to make himself less of a target as he grabbed Ellis's arms and pulled him away. Meanwhile, Ellis fumbled to pull out his SMG, firing at the zombie bride in a panic. He could hear Nick say "What the fuck?!" over the gunfire and couldn't help but think the same thing. Three out of four of the survivors were shooting the shit out of this thing - a few rounds even hit her in the neck and head - but still, she pursued him, almost as if their bullets only served to make her angrier. </p><p>She swiped at him and he just barely managed to pull his leg out of the way, her wicked claws leaving gouges in the grass below instead. She was just about to swing again when one of their bullets finally tore clean through her skull and she stopped, letting out one last shriek as she fell.</p><p>"Holy shit," Ellis said, his heart pounding in his ears as Coach helped him back up.</p><p>"And <em>this</em>," Rochelle said weakly, gesturing to the dead bride. "Is why I hate weddings."</p><p>"Jesus, she took like five clips to the face." Nick reloaded his Magnum, hands shaking.</p><p>"Let's not stick around." Rochelle urged them on, taking care to step over the body as though it might get back up.</p><p>Coach frowned to himself as they came up to what looked to be the reception area. The few tents that were set up were barren, and he sighed wistfully. "Damn. No cake."</p><p>It had meant to be a little joke to help lighten the mood, and he was grateful when it seemed to work. "Sorry, Coach," Nick snorted, sliding his gun back into his holster with a dry smirk. "No way we'd get that lucky."</p><p>They climbed a set of stairs out of the park and onto a relatively empty street. Past the small collection of zombies and abandoned cars, Ellis spotted a big, heavy-looking door. "Shit - looks like a safe house up ahead."</p><p>Coach took charge, clearing out stray zombies with controlled shotgun blasts as he led them down the street. Once everyone had piled inside, he shut the door behind them and let the bar fall with a heavy 'clunk'.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. The Streets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They took a good fifteen minutes or so to recover and take shelter from the rain. Rochelle found a loose handkerchief, mustard yellow and paisley printed, and tied it over her head in an attempt to keep her hair from getting any wetter. "So what's the plan here?" she asked, looking up to the others.</p><p>"There's gotta be another bridge or something," Ellis said, pulling his hat off to run a hand through a mess of unruly curls.</p><p>"I'm sure that was the only one." Coach leaned against a table, crumpling up an empty granola bar wrapper. "We could borrow a boat or something, maybe."</p><p>Nick sighed from his position on the floor, crouched down as he searched the cluttered shelves for anything worth scavenging. But he came up empty, rising to his feet and brushing dirt off of his knees. "Ain't too late to go back and turn around," Ellis eventually offered, frowning. "Don't wanna leave my car for too long."</p><p>Rochelle shared a look with Coach, silently begging him to deliver the reality check. She won the battle of wills, and the older man sighed. "Ellis... you know we're gonna have to leave it behind eventually."</p><p>"Yeah, very funny, Coach," Ellis said almost immediately, voice unamused.</p><p>"Ellis," Rochelle chimed in, firm yet gentle. "I know you love that car, but it'd be nice to find something with working doors. And an actual back seat. And seat belts."</p><p>The younger man pouted at her. "Stock car <em>royalty</em>, Ro," he emphasized as though that meant anything to her. "C'mon, y'all, we're lucky we got a car at all."</p><p>"I know, but you think we can go another day trying to Twister our way between safety bars? Especially if every pit stop turns out like this one?"</p><p>"Besides," Coach added. "The military ain't gonna be able to strap that thing to a chopper."</p><p>Ellis didn't respond to that, brows furrowed as he looked back down to his SMG. His stubbornness surprised Rochelle a little; so far, Ellis had been the most easy-going guy she had ever met. But it looked like he wasn't going to budge on the car.</p><p>"Are we gonna keep arguing about a stupid car, or are we gonna go?" Nick leaned against the wall, resting one hand on the safe room door and looking back at the others expectantly. "Sooner we find a way across, sooner we get out of here."</p><p>Rochelle shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "You're right. Let's go."</p><p>The safe house led to an alley that they cleared out relatively easily. The trouble came when they got to the next street. It was <em>packed</em> with zombies, most dressed for a night on the town that had clearly gone wrong. On the bright side, it gave Ellis plenty of time to get used to the kick of an SMG. Nick had just placed his Magnum back in its holster when a zombie broke through their defenses and grabbed the first thing in reach: Rochelle's arm. She panicked, trying to shake the thing off desperately as it reared back to sink its teeth into her skin. Nick swiftly swung his crowbar, catching the thing under its chin and nearly decapitating it as it fell.</p><p>"Thanks," she breathed, offering him a little smile.</p><p>"Whatever," he replied, starting forward. The lively neon lights were a stark contrast to the now-empty streets, and they were quiet as they looked for another path forward. Nick slowed to a stop outside of a giant sign that read "TATTOOS" and snorted to himself. "Hey, Ellis. Want me to tattoo that girl's name on your ass? I bet she'd like that."</p><p>Ellis snorted, glancing back at him with a skeptical grin. "Yeah, right. You don't know how to use those things."</p><p>"Sure I do."</p><p>"Aw hell, this's where I got mine done," Coach said, peering through the door.</p><p>Rochelle raised her brows, eyeing the oldest member of the group up and down. "<em>You</em> have tattoos? ...Where?"</p><p>Coach paused, looking at her for a second before saying mysteriously, "Hey, Coach keeps his secrets."</p><p>Nick couldn't help but laugh, especially at the horrified expression that quickly overtook Rochelle's face. "Let's check out that pool hall," she said, refusing to meet Coach's eyes again as she started forward again.</p><p>Coach chuckled to himself, resting his shotgun on his shoulder as he took in the sight of the street. "Shame to see Rayford like this... man, this town used to have the <em>best </em>boiled peanut festival."</p><p>"Boiled peanuts?" Nick echoed, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Christ, what is <em>wrong </em>with you Southerners?"</p><p>"Hey. Don't knock it 'til you try it."</p><p>All of the buildings on this track of street were barricaded and locked except for a pool hall up to their left. Ellis back-tracked a little to an alley just off to the side of the building; to their luck, a back entrance was still unlocked. It seemed that some survivors had tried to hole up in here, weapons discarded among empty pool tables. Nick breathed a sigh of relief as he found more assault rifle ammunition, quickly reloading his empty gun while the others secured the pool hall. Unfortunately, their luck ran out here; the only path forward was through broken windows that led to a torn-up street. It would be easy to get down, but not so easy to get back up if they needed to turn around.</p><p>"Looks like we're headin' this way," Ellis said, sticking his head out the window. Someone had set up some planks outside, but the street across from them was blocked with scaffolding. They'd have to wade through mud and rainwater to get to the other side.</p><p>Nick made a sound of disgust, bending over to roll up his pant legs. "You picked a bad day to wear a white suit, Nick," Coach said with an unsympathetic laugh.</p><p>"Go to hell," the other man said almost automatically, but his voice was mild enough to laugh the comment off as a joke. "Okay. Let's get this over with."</p><p>One by one, they stepped out onto the planks and climbed down into the muddy water, and Rochelle shivered as the cold seeped in through her boots. "<em>Jesus</em>, that's cold," she said before starting to wade towards a natural incline back up to the intact portion of the street.</p><p>Ellis nearly slipped on his way up, mud coating his palms and forearms as he caught himself. He tried to shake it off once he was on solid ground again to no avail, eventually settling for rubbing his hands off on his coveralls. "Through here," Coach said, leading them to a stairway and down into an empty bar.</p><p>There was another pool room in the back, the walls lined with graffiti that included tidbits like "<em>REPENT! THE END IS EXTREMELY ███████ NIGH!</em>". A hastily-scribbled "<em>theres no need for that kind of language</em>" underneath filled in the missing word. Nick snorted to himself as he read, taking a moment to snatch up another Molotov sitting in the corner.</p><p>The back alley was barricaded, but the stairs weren't. '<em>Literally nowhere to go but up</em>,' Rochelle thought to herself with a little laugh. This bar seemed to double as a motel if the empty rooms on the second floor were any indication, bare mattresses settled on the floor. She stopped as she noticed a briefcase sitting open on one of them, the gleam of metal catching the lights above.</p><p>The briefcase was full of stacks of money, weighed down with a few pistols. "Wow," she said, taking in the sight with a small shake of her head. After a moment, she huffed, looking over her shoulder. "Hey, Nick! Is this your suitcase?"</p><p>He did a double-take, peering at the suitcase before shooting her a sly grin. "No, but I like the way this guy packs."</p><p>Coach poked his head in after them, having noticed they weren't following, and stopped in the doorway at the sight. It took only a second for him to start laughing. "A suitcase full of pistols and mon-ayyyy!" he sang.</p><p>Rochelle cracked up, wheezing out a strangled "What?!" as she doubled over.</p><p>"The Midnight Riders! It's a classic!" Coach shook his head, gesturing for them to move on. "Nick, see if there's any more ammo and let's go."</p><p>Nick shot him a thumbs-up. Once his companions had turned the corner back into the hallway, discussing something about a band he'd never heard of, he hastily shoved a few stacks of hundred-dollar bills into his wallet. '<em>Hey, you never know,</em>' he mused to himself with a little smirk. There was a single box of ammunition for his Magnum, too, and he slipped that into his pocket before leaving.</p><p>It was strangely quiet as they worked through the other rooms in a futile search for more supplies. Eventually, they came upon a board propped up between the fire exit and an open window of the building next door. "Okay, just... don't look down," Ellis said, stepping up onto the board. It was surprisingly sturdy as he balanced his way across.</p><p>Nick followed, immediately turning to urge the others forward. "C'mon, before another Smoker pops up."</p><p>Coach went next, leaving Rochelle to bring up the rear. She took a deep breath, carefully balancing on the board and doing her damndest not to look down at the alleyway below them with little success. She nearly lost her balance as she approached the window, reaching out and grabbing onto Coach as she stepped back onto solid ground. "Hey, there you go," he said, smiling easily at her. "Not so bad, right?"</p><p>"Yeah," she lied, swallowing down the lump in her throat.</p><p>Zombies had milled about in the abandoned building, just enough to stampede up the stairs and swarm at the sound of gunfire. Thankfully, it was nothing like when they had stepped out of the safe house, and they cleared the building easily before some movement in the corridor caught Rochelle's attention, a shadow that slipped past an open doorway. "Guys," she warned quietly, glancing back to them. "Think we got another special." As they followed, hurried footsteps on the stairs to their left confirmed her suspicions - they weren't alone in here.</p><p>"Don't the weird ones usually make noise?" Ellis whispered as they went downstairs single-file. "This one's quiet."</p><p>No one responded, but Nick did turn to give him a small nod. It was definitely weird that this one was quiet. Stranger still was that it seemed to be <em>avoiding them</em>; the other zombies seemed to have no qualms charging at them, but this one was staying hidden and out of sight. That gave them just another reason to be cautious as they cleared the first floor. They finally caught a glimpse of the thing as they left the building and stepped onto the street outside. Cars were haphazardly abandoned, left parked halfway on sidewalks with the doors open. But what caught their attention was a figure stumbling down the street away from them. He looked to be dressed to the nines in survival gear, including a bright red first aid kit strapped to his back.</p><p>Ellis pushed forward, eyes wide. "Keith?!"</p><p>The figure snapped up to attention, spinning to look at them. He was clearly infected, blood streaming from his eyes and mouth, and he snarled at them... before turning and running down the street.</p><p>"God <em>damn </em>it, Ellis -" Nick snarled, not even offering him a glance as he raised his rifle and started to fire after it. What should have been a clean headshot ricocheted off of the zombie's helmet and he stumbled, falling on his hands. Another bullet tore clean through his spine as he tried to regain his balance, finally ending him.</p><p>"Sorry," Ellis mumbled, pulling his hat down over his eyes. "Thought he looked like..."</p><p>"It's okay, Ellis," Rochelle said, rubbing her hand between his shoulders. "But be more careful next time. We're lucky he was the only thing out here."</p><p>While Nick fetched the first aid kit from the dead zombie, Coach took a moment to look around. It had been quite some time since he'd had the free time to come to Rayford - or at least this part of it; having a kid kind of took him away from the club scene. But as he was idly checking the storefronts, a placard next to a local jazz club caught his attention. "Historic Under The River Tour," he read aloud.</p><p>And just like that, he had a plan.</p><p>"Ohhh," Ellis said once Coach had gestured everyone over, nodding along. "I get it! If we can't go <em>over</em>, we can go <em>under</em>. Good thinkin', Coach!"</p><p>Nick nudged at a body collapsed on the ground outside the club with his foot. "These guys probably had the same idea."</p><p>Rochelle rolled her eyes, gun in hand as she entered the jazz club. The others, even Nick, eventually followed. "Better than staying out here, at least."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. The Tour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bar of the club was pitch black. Enough light trickled in from the hallway for them to see the empty bar. There wasn't anything worth scavenging in here, though, and they moved on quickly. "Hey, Coach," Rochelle said, glancing behind her as they entered the back room. "You know anything about this tour?"</p><p>"It's historic," Coach suggested after a moment. His silence afterward indicated that that was all he had to offer as they headed downstairs.</p><p>"Okay," she said, nodding. "Good enough."</p><p>The zombie behind the welcome desk for the tour only had a moment to react to their presence before it took a bullet to the head. "Should we leave some money?" Ellis asked, brows furrowed as they passed a sign that claimed $5 entry to the tour. Nick rolled his eyes and passed by, heading forward to check the next room. The younger man sighed, fishing out his wallet to put twenty dollars underneath the service bell just in case.</p><p>The tour itself was not what any of them had expected - excavated tunnels with a plank walkway and dimly lit by light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. "Wow," Rochelle said.</p><p>"Man, this is a real..." Coach started, trailing off as he struggled to find something positive to say.</p><p>"Shithole?" Nick offered.</p><p>"...Yeah, it's a shithole." But it was also their best bet to move forward, so they continued.</p><p>A few zombies had worked their way into the tunnels, filing out of side rooms to swipe at them with dirty claws. The path was narrow enough to offer no line of retreat should they get swarmed, so they hurried along the tour - not that they were missing much. "I've never had so much fun learning," Rochelle muttered under her breath.</p><p>Nick overheard her and snorted quietly in laughter just as a low growl echoed from a room up ahead. He stopped, reaching out to grab Coach's shoulder. "Hold up. You hear that Hunter?" The others froze around him, huddling close into a loose box formation. "Up ahead."</p><p>"It's in a blind spot," Ellis said, shaking his head. "Can't get to it unless we go through."</p><p>Coach took a deep breath, nodding. "Get ready to shoot." They approached the doorway, listening carefully for another sound that could tell them which way to aim. Just as Coach's foot crossed the threshold, he heard claws scratching on the wood floor to his right. Instinctively, he pivoted and fired his shotgun.</p><p>The Hunter had been about to pounce when it caught the brunt of the fire, falling back with a scream. The sound caught the attention of a few straggler zombies, but once they were taken care of, Ellis hooted, slinging an arm over Coach's shoulder. "Look at you, takin' charge!"</p><p>"Nice," Nick said as he pushed through the door. They picked through the basement until they stumbled on a stairway. There was a small sign placed on the floor beside it that had an illustration of a thermometer and the words, "<em>PHASE 2! GO UNDER THE RIVER! COMING 2010! </em>"</p><p>"Phase two?!" Coach scoffed. "Shit, phase <em>one</em> ain't even finished!"</p><p>"From one con man to another: five bucks for <em>this</em>?" Nick slung his gun over his shoulder, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Well played, Rayford."</p><p>"That was almost as bad as the Seattle underground museum," Rochelle said, peering into the doorway. It seemed well-lit, and there really wasn't any other option than to keep moving. "Let's just hope it goes through."</p><p>It did not.</p><p>They got a few flights down before the stairs started to creak and groan. Eventually, they gave out, dropping off into foul-smelling darkness. "Well... what now?" Nick asked, glancing back to the others. "Any other ideas?"</p><p>"It might still go through," Coach said, peering down into the darkness and wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Don't think we got any other choice."</p><p>"You're kidding, right? Do you <em>smell </em>that?"</p><p>"Well," Ellis said after a moment, slinging his gun over his back. "Last one in's a rotten egg!" And with that, he jumped into the water below with a faint splash. Eventually, his voice echoed up, "Careful! Stairs collapsed down here!"</p><p>"This is not happening," Nick muttered as Coach took a deep breath and jumped after him. "No way."</p><p>Rochelle shrugged at him apologetically before turning to glance down. Ellis had clicked on his flashlight, turning him into a little spotlight in the distance. She focused on that as she backed up and took a running jump off of the stairway. She landed in lukewarm water, Coach and Ellis grabbing her to help her regain her footing. Unfortunately, the smell was nearly overpowering down here, and a wave of nausea washed over her as she realized that they had landed in sewage. "Ugh, god," she groaned, shaking off her hands.</p><p>Nick only needed a little urging to join them, and once he came to the same realization, his face paled. As they started to wade through the water, he said, "It's just a storm sewer. It is<em> just</em> a <em>storm sewer</em>."</p><p>"Don't smell like one."</p><p>"Ellis, I <em>need</em> this."</p><p>"Ay," Coach called back, grinning. "Don't trip, Nick." He laughed at the dirty look he got in return.</p><p>It took a little bit of walking to find the ladder out, and Nick spent the entire time complaining. "Hey Nick, what's new?" he muttered to himself, eyes trained in front of him. "Oh, not much. I couldn't drive Jimmy Gibbs's stock car over a bridge, so now I'm crawling through a shit-filled sewer. You?"</p><p>Rochelle bit back a laugh as they finally found salvation in the form of a ledge. Back on (relatively) dry land, Coach turned around to find the stairway again. "Alright. We just gotta keep movin' forward, find the way out, and we should be on the other side of the bridge."</p><p>No one objected, but they all thought the same thing: '<em>Assuming there </em>was <em>a way out</em>.'</p><p>They could only enjoy walking on solid ground again for a few minutes. Through a small tunnel, they found an electronic gate that dropped down back into the sewer water. "Nowhere to go but down," Ellis said. And before anyone could stop him, he pressed the button.</p><p>Immediately, a siren started blaring, the lights at the top of the gate flashing as it swung open. "Oh, shit - go!" Coach yelled, shoving Ellis forward.</p><p>The younger man paled, swearing under his breath as he dropped back down into the water. Once everyone was back into the sewage, they all frantically clicked on their flashlights so they weren't stumbling around in the dark. Rochelle had just pointed hers forward when the unmistakable sloshing of bodies treading through the water started to fill the air. "Of course they're down here, too," she groaned, exasperated.</p><p>"Keep moving!" Coach yelled over the low roar. "There's gotta be a way out!"</p><p>Two things made the trip slow going. The first was that, even with four flashlights cutting beams into the darkness, it was pitch black in the sewers. The second was the sheer volume of zombies now flooding into the sewers after them. What seemed like hundreds of them came screaming from every direction, clawing and gnashing at them.</p><p>Between the bodies and the darkness, Ellis found himself drifting - although it might have been more accurate to say he was being herded. The thought made his heart drop into his stomach. He swung out with the butt of his gun, desperately trying to find a way out of the mass of bodies surrounding him. Claws caught against his cheek and scrabbled against the denim of his coveralls, trying to find anything to hook into.</p><p>The whole time, he was calling out for help, praying that he wasn't drifting too far away. Someone had to be able to hear him. Someone had to notice he was gone... right?</p><p>A loud shotgun blast cut through the snarls and chaos, clearing enough space that Ellis could finally move of his own free will again. He <em>had</em> gotten knocked off course; not too far, thankfully, as Coach had been able to turn and help clear the way for him easily enough.</p><p>His breath caught in his throat as his flashlight struck something sticking up from the ground, and he hollered over the sound, "Ladder!"</p><p>Nick scrambled up first, combing through his pockets as the others followed. His brows shot up as he met Ellis's eyes, and something in them was hard but frenzied. "Lighter!" Ellis blinked up at the older man, not quite understanding. Nick growled, gesturing to Ellis's pockets. "You still have my lighter, dipshit! Get a pipe bomb ready!"</p><p>Ellis nodded, and as soon as he was up on the catwalk, he dug around for the lighter, fingers barely registering the cool metal as he flicked it open. There was another electronic gate on the catwalk, and Rochelle slammed a fist onto the button, yelling "Come on!" as it started to open at a snail's pace. None of them even waited for it to open all the way, squeezing through as soon as there was enough room to slide through.</p><p>The catwalk collapsed back into the water again past a chain-link fence that cut halfway through the sewer. Before jumping off, Ellis lit the pipe bomb and clicked the button before chucking it into the water away from the catwalk. The beeping echoed faintly through the air, but it still seemed to have an effect; the zombies piling over the fence after them peeled off to chase it. They saw the opportunity and ran, jumping back into the water to push forward.</p><p>Eventually, they came upon a tunnel, the sound of the horde behind them cut short by an explosion that left their ears ringing for a moment. The water rose as they entered the tunnel, their running turning into more of a furious wading. A few zombies survived the blast and pursued them, but Rochelle and Nick brought up the rear, moving backward to pick off the stragglers.</p><p>Ellis cheered as he saw a literal light at the end of the tunnel, a soft wash that illuminated a ledge and another ladder. "Come on, we're almost there!" he yelled, pulling out his rifle to pick off a few zombies milling around in the water ahead.</p><p>Rochelle's rifle clicked empty halfway down, and she swore under her breath, reaching for her pipe just as Coach put a hand on her shoulder. "I got you," he said as he pushed past her, leveling his shotgun against his hip. She nodded, turning back to take his place next to Ellis in an almost seamless rotation.</p><p>Once they reached the ladder, they took turns covering each other. Nick and Coach held at the bottom while Rochelle and Ellis climbed up, and Ellis covered them once he got to the ledge. A stairway finally led them out of the sewers, but they didn't stop moving until they had found another safe room and slammed the door shut behind them.</p><p>"What the hell were you thinking?" Nick immediately said, breathless but angry as he rounded on Ellis. "You always just see a button and think 'I should push that'?"</p><p>Rochelle held up her hands to try and calm him down, but she was too late. Ellis lowered his head, practically hiding behind the bill of his hat. "I didn't think -"</p><p>"Yeah, clearly. Jesus. You have any idea how lucky we got back there? Ro ran out of ammo and you got pulled off on your own. If we hadn't had that pipe bomb -"</p><p>"I'm sorry, okay? I messed up, I'm <em>sorry</em>."</p><p>"Nick!" Rochelle finally said, stepping between them. Nick was tense with anger, fists balled against his sides, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he was one word away from swinging. Ellis had retreated back to the door, nearly pressed up against it. "Did <em>you </em>know the gate was alarmed? What would you have done?"</p><p>Nick didn't answer, only giving her a warning glace before he scoffed and turned away, violently shaking out his sleeves. "I'm literally covered in shit and just almost died because Cleetus over there never learned to keep his hands to himself. But sure, whatever."</p><p>"Hey. Let's get our heads on straight, y'all. We made it out." The firmness of the words was undone by how breathless Coach sounded as he leaned against a wall, eyes closed. The sight humbled them slightly and an awkward silence filled the safe room.</p><p>"God, we smell like shit," Rochelle muttered after a second, looking down to mourn the state of her boots. "I liked these boots, too."</p><p>Ellis finally looked up, watching Nick warily for a moment before speaking. "We make it to the other side?"</p><p>Nick didn't answer for a moment, the silence deafening as he reloaded his Magnum. But finally, he peered out through the bars with a sigh. "...Yeah, I think so. The bridge is right there, anyway."</p><p>Rochelle hesitated before stepping forward to the door. Sure enough, if she craned her neck, she could see the bridge and a few buildings that looked familiar. "Now let's just hope those guys stuck around to help out."</p><p>"Aw, don't remind me," Ellis sighed, suddenly looking sheepish in an entirely different way. "We're gonna see that girl again - I'm nervous enough already."</p><p>"You just be your sweet self, Ellis," Rochelle assured, reaching over to rub his arm.</p><p>Nick snorted, finally looking at Ellis again. Something in his expression was still annoyed but not nearly as murderous as before, something that relieved Rochelle greatly. "Don't listen to her. Do or die time, kiddo - you got five minutes to get it done."</p><p>"You're just jealous, Nick."</p><p>Coach cleared his throat, standing up straight. "Alright, focus, people. Let's gear up and move out." Despite the assertive tone in his voice, Rochelle caught the smile on his face as they sorted through ammunition.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. The Port</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain still hadn't let up when they finally left the safe room, and although the smell of the sewer was still clinging to their clothes and skin, they could pretend it helped. The riverfront walkway was abandoned, at least, which was another small comfort. Voices echoed from down a set of stairs, and Coach allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. It sounded like the bridge team had stuck around after all. "C'mon," he said over his shoulder, nodding forward. "Let's go get our car." Ellis perked up at that, a happy grin slowly spreading across his face before he nodded and practically ran up the stairs.</p><p>Sure enough, the man and the woman from the bridge stood on the walkway, but they weren't alone. Another man had joined them, sitting against the railing. His button-down shirt had been white, once, but was now caked in dirt, accented by a red tie. His leg was stretched out before him, bloodied and torn. Coach could tell that even standing on it would have been incredibly painful and couldn't help but wince. "Hey there," he greeted with a wave.</p><p>"You made it!" the injured man said, his smile bright and genuine as he turned to his companions. "Told you they would. Man, it's nice to talk to other people again."</p><p>"For real," Rochelle agreed, stepping forward and gesturing to her group. "I'm Rochelle. This is Coach, Ellis, and Nick."</p><p>"Louis. This is Zoey and Francis."</p><p>"Nice to meet you guys. So you said you could help us with the generator?"</p><p>"Yeah... about that." Francis cleared his throat, rolling a shoulder. "We went to a lot of trouble getting this bridge up in the first place. Not exactly happy about putting it back down again."</p><p>"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nick stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "I did <em>not</em> walk through a goddamn <em>sewer</em> just for you to pussy out on us, you greasy, vest-wearing <em>monkey</em>."</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Ellis reached forward to grab his shoulder and pull him back, but Francis stood up straight. "Go to hell, Colonel Sanders. We lost a good man trying to get up here. It's not like we <em>want</em> to fuck you over."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Francis," Louis said softly, his smile fading. "We said we'd help them."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Coach lowered his head in respect. "I'm sorry for your loss. But we gotta get over this bridge."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We can't fill the generator ourselves," Zoey said eventually, her lip quirking downward. "Not with Louis's leg. But like I said earlier, if you try to fill it, we can cover you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks, Zoey," Ellis said, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. She smiled at him and he swore right then and there that he could die happy. He cleared his throat sheepishly. "Y'know... we heard New Orleans was the last holdout. Y'all could come with us if you wanted."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Francis snorted. "No, thanks. We've had enough of the military."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You sure?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The walkway trio exchanged a look between them that Coach couldn't quite parse. "Yeah," Zoey said eventually. "Thanks for the offer, though. There's a lift right over there, we'll see you down there."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Coach nodded, pausing for only a moment before heading towards the lift. "Too bad they don't want to come with," Rochelle said wistfully as she followed. "Might be nice having more people on hand."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Sounds like they've made up their minds, though." Coach sighed as he pressed the button, and the lift started to descend. "Okay. Game plan - same as the mall. Split off, it'll go faster if we're all grabbin' gas."</p>
  <p>"That genny looks a lot bigger, though," Ellis chimed in, his voice tinged with anxiety. "We're gonna need a lot more gas to fill it."</p>
  <p>"How many more of these are we going to have to fill by the time we get to New Orleans?" Nick muttered bitterly as he checked his ammunition.</p>
  <p>"Probably a lot. Don't think the Jimmy Gibbs, Jr. can get all the way there with how much we have."</p>
  <p>"Perfect."</p>
  <p>As soon as they were back on the street, they heard a whistle from towards the bridge. Francis and Zoey had taken shelter on a balcony of the building across from the generator, and they were both holding gas cans. "These were in here already," Zoey yelled as they dropped them down onto the street.</p>
  <p>"Thanks, babe," Nick yelled back as he picked one up and ran it back to the generator.</p>
  <p>Rochelle shrugged an apology at Zoey, wincing at the look of disgust that flashed over her face. "Sorry. He's like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sorry <em>you</em> have to deal with it," the younger woman replied, shaking her head. "Anyway - make sure you check the whole port. It looked like some people were holed up here before."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rochelle gave her a thumbs-up before turning back to the group. "Coach! We should check that building we came down from."</p>
  <p>The oldest survivor turned to study the building and nodded. "Yeah. Nick, Ellis, go check the other way. Holler if you need help."</p>
  <p>Nick rolled his eyes, nudging Ellis's arm with his shoulder as he passed. "C'mon, sport."</p>
  <p>Rochelle watched them go for a second, sighing quietly before following Coach into the building with the lift. There was a set of stairs behind the giant generators and on the second-floor landing, there sat an open door to a walkway and a gas can. "Let's see if there are any more on the other side," Rochelle suggested, edging towards the walkway. "Grab the one in here on the way back."</p>
  <p>"Good thinkin'. Watch for Smokers." They left the can there and continued on outside. A few zombies were milling about further down the alley, but they didn't seem to notice the duo as they quickly ducked into the next building.</p>
  <p>They didn't hear the Spitter's shriek until Coach turned a corner and ran right into her, shouting in surprise. Rochelle cursed out loud and put three rounds into the thing's head, and it collapsed in a pile of green fluid. Some splashed onto Coach's shoe, bubbling as it warped the leather underneath it. Coach tried to shake it off, sending drops flying against the wall. "It's like acid," Rochelle said, swallowing hard as it darkened and cooled. "You alright, Coach?"</p>
  <p>"Yeah. The shoe got the worst of it." Coach frowned, shaking his head and lifting his gun. "Let's hurry up and find some cans."</p>
  <p>There was only one in the new building, but another balcony gave them a view of an entirely new section of the port to check when they returned. So they worked their way back to the generator, their pace hurrying when they heard gunfire and shouts. Ellis and Nick were positioned just next to the generator, firing at a crowd of zombies that raced towards them. Zoey and Francis were helping from their position on the high ground, and Rochelle caught a glimpse of Louis's white shirt against the dark sky on top of the bridge. His hands were clasped around the handles of a massive mounted gun.</p>
  <p>"Pour in the gas," Nick yelled over his shoulder as Rochelle and Coach approached. "We'll hold!"</p>
  <p>"We got two!" Rochelle yelled over the noise, passing the cans off to Coach.</p>
  <p>"We got three. Should need about three more."</p>
  <p>Rochelle nodded, turning to watch Coach's back as he poured the gas into the generator. A dark figure caught her attention, and she lifted her gun, ready to fire. But then her eyes adjusted, and she realized what she was looking at.</p>
  <p>A man was slumped against a generator inside the building, clearly dead. An assault rifle sat in his lap, loosely gripped in a weathered hand, and he was dressed in what looked like military fatigues. Most importantly, he looked... recent. Not like the bodies they had seen in the mall. A strange sense of mourning built up in her chest as she realized <em>this</em> was who Francis had been talking about when he'd said they'd lost someone.</p>
  <p>At some point, Coach must have noticed what she was looking at as she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Shit," he said softly. "Looks like he didn't go down without a fight." Rochelle looked up at him, brows furrowed. It was both comforting and terrifying. The bridge survivors seemed competent, put-together, but even <em>they</em> had suffered casualties.</p>
  <p>What did that say about <em>their </em>chances?</p>
  <p>She didn't have time to say as much, though. The ground rumbled under her feet, imperceptibly at first, but soon it began to rattle through her legs. A rhythmic pounding that grew closer and closer. The despair quickly shifted into terror as she heard a roar from down the alley. Briefly, the hulking creature from the mall came to mind, and she yelled, "Tank!"</p>
  <p>Coach swore, moving back into position. Francis snapped to attention at that, focusing in their direction. A few seconds later, Ellis echoed, "Tank!"</p>
  <p>"She just said -" Nick started to berate him, stopping short as he lowered his gun. "Holy shit."</p>
  <p>From down the opposite alley, a massive figure had pulled itself over the fence. But the thing Rochelle heard was coming from <em>behind</em> her, completely on the other side of the street.</p>
  <p>Zoey, from her vantage point, screamed, "<em>Tanks</em>!"</p>
  <p>There were two of them.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. The Tanks (Plural)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Holy shit," Rochelle said, backing up to the street. "Holy shit, holy <em>shit</em>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lead them back to me!" Louis's voice called down from the bridge, fingers tightening around the mounted gun he wielded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should've known they'd still be around," Francis yelled over the noise. "Bob and weave, kids!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tank coming from the alley seemed closer, so they focused on that threat first. But they didn't want to give the other Tank the chance to get the jump on them, either. They compromised by fortifying in the middle of the street. Rochelle's hands were shaking, her aim unsteady as she helped pick off the horde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, take this!" Zoey called from the balcony before she tossed something over the railing. Ellis caught it effortlessly, smiling as he realized it was a Molotov.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks, Zoey! Nick -" He didn't even have to finish his sentence before Nick was holding out his lighter, taking the opportunity to reload. Ellis grabbed it, lighting the rag and tossing it towards the horde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the Tank that had been behind the generator came into the open, roaring as it smashed into an abandoned semi-truck. "Pour it on, Louis!" Coach yelled over the noise, but it was unnecessary. The second it came into view, the mounted gun above them whirred to life and started to rain hell on the massive zombie. </span>
  <span>The impact of the bullets stunned it, but it persisted, dragging itself towards the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis only barely heard the Smoker over the noise, switching out his rifle and aiming through the scope. He saw it on the top of the hill in front of them, but before he could pull the trigger, it exploded in a cloud of smoke. </span>
  <span>It seemed that Zoey had heard it, too, resting her rifle against the railing for support as she sniped it down. "Smoker's down!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'<em>I think I'm in love</em>,' he thought to himself. But it was a brief distraction in a battlefield, and he focused back on the zombies just as the second Tank appeared. The flames of the Molotov were just starting to die, but apparently, it was enough to catch, and the Tank lit up with a scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh shit," Francis said. "Careful! Fire pisses 'em off!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh for -" Nick started to say, turning to glance up at the walkway. In the distraction, he failed to notice the first Tank hooking its fingers into a car and lifting it over its head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle and Ellis dived off to the sides as they realized what it was going to do, but Nick only turned when the car was already sailing towards him. Coach surged forward, tackling him out of the way and disappearing behind the car as it plummeted into the street. "Holy shit!" Ellis yelled, scrambling to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle watched the wreckage for movement, heart pounding. There wasn't any time to check on them; she would just have to trust that they were alright. She took a deep breath and yelled up to Louis, "Go for the second one! We'll finish it off!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With four survivors focusing fire on it, the first Tank finally collapsed just feet away from the bridge. The second Tank didn't fare much better; between the flames and Louis's gun, it, too, fell to its knees and died. "That's for Bill, you son of a bitch!" Louis screamed from his perch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the horde seemed to die down, Ellis heard another growl coming from somewhere above them. Quickly, he swung his rifle, and it was blind luck that let him pull the trigger just as a Hunter started to pounce down at him. "Whoa!" Zoey said with a low whistle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more zombies later, the port finally fell silent. "Looks like we're clear," Francis said, lowering his gun and rolling his shoulder. "For now, anyway."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle slung her rifle over her back and ran for the crashed car. "Coach?!" she called out. "Nick!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach was kneeling, his hand pressed against Nick's shoulder as the gambler lay on the ground. "You hit like a goddamn freight train," he groaned, breathless from the impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you're lucky I'm <em>all</em> that hit you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank god," Rochelle said, putting a hand on her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Need to take a breather, suit?" Francis called down from the balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick sneered up at Francis, carefully working his way to his feet. He pressed a hand to his ribs, aching but otherwise uninjured. "Joke all you want, dude, but that was <em>way</em> too close."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, at least we're still kickin'. Nice shootin', Zoey," Ellis called up, waving at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," Zoey said, tucking loose hair behind her ear. "You're pretty good with that rifle. That shot was seriously cool."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goofy little grin that settled on Ellis's face was quite the mood whiplash, and Rochelle found herself smiling along. "See? You're doing great," she whispered to him as she approached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Reload, regroup," Nick said, tossing empty magazines on the ground and studying them. "I've got a bit left, but we're gonna be in trouble if there's another horde like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they huddled together to regroup, Francis leaned over the railing. "So, Rochelle, right? Nice shirt. Dee-peck Mode - I love that guy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle looked down at her shirt, ignoring Nick's derisive snort, and felt herself smile despite herself. "Thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Francis, tell me you're joking," Zoey said, looking at him with an incredibly judgemental eyebrow raise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? Obviously, she's a woman of taste."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle laughed even as Zoey shook her head, glancing up at Louis. Even from his position on top of the bridge, she could hear him laugh, too. "Okay. Well, <em>I'm</em> going to go throw up. You guys keep working on that generator."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach shook his head with a defeated sigh before stepping forward, pointing towards the second building they had found. "There's some more shops up that way that might be worth checkin' out. How much more you think we need, Ellis?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis peered over at the generator, smoothing his hand over the panel. "Uh - I'd say three more of those cans should do it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright. Let's all go together."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed like most of the zombies that had been in the port were cleared out in the horde, so the trip to the back alley was relatively quiet. Coach was limping as they circled the building, and it didn't go unnoticed. </span>
  <span>"Hey," Nick said quietly, walking alongside the older man. "...Thanks. You good?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach blinked, looking at Nick over his shoulder. The gambler had turned away, though, pretending to be watching their surroundings. He snorted quietly, a smile coming to his face. "Sure thing, Nick. I'll be a'ight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although it was quiet, they still hurried to get the last gas cans. Another Hunter tried to ambush them on their way back to the generator, managing to graze its claws against Rochelle's jeans before they put it down. "Man, there's a lot of specials around here," Ellis said as they climbed over a ruined wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe they heard the fight?" Rochelle suggested. The Hunter had torn a small hole just underneath her knee, but the denim had saved her from injury. "Gonna need to buy new clothes when this is done, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bridge survivors seemed to be holding their own, their height giving them a vantage point as more zombies made their way to the bridge. "When this bridge goes down, those vampires are gonna come out of the woodwork," Francis warned as they approached. "Get ready to haul ass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, thanks, guys," Rochelle said. "We really do appreciate it. But what are you guys gonna do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey shook her head with a smile. "Don't worry about us. We'll be alright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach paused just before starting to pour in the last gas can, glancing at his group. "Alright, y'all. Get ready to haul ass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis and Rochelle nodded, heading towards the bridge. "Hey, suit, c'mere a second." Francis beckoned Nick to the balcony, and the gambler rolled his eyes before obeying. "You can have this." And he dropped a syringe over the railing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick caught it and flipped it over, reading the label. Auto-injectible adrenaline for allergic reactions - he furrowed his brow but stuck it in his pocket anyway. "Thanks, greaseball." He paused, then sighed. "Hey - sorry if I was rude before. You guys really saved our asses."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problem. Good luck, brother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach tossed the last can away once it was empty and flipped the switch to turn on the generator. It immediately roared to life, the bridge beginning to lower slowly but surely. Once he was sure the generator wouldn't give out again, he joined the others just in front of the bridge, ready to hold their position. Sure enough, the grinding of the bridge drew out a collective scream from the city around them. "Here they come," Nick warned, raising his gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of zombies started pouring out from the street just as the bridge lowered to street level. As the group picked off the incoming horde, the metal wings of the bridge slowly folded out and dropped, anchoring the bridge to the ground with a loud 'clang!'.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bridge is down," Louis yelled from his perch. "Get going, we'll cover you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll never forget you, Zoey!" Ellis called back as he sprinted for the car. He didn't turn to see her reaction, his brain unable to decide whether to be upset or exhilarated. "Thanks, guys!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others followed, but Nick pushed ahead of the others to slide into the back seat. Rochelle followed, leaving Coach to take shotgun. Ellis flipped the switch, pressing the gas once the engine hummed to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stay safe, y'all!" Coach yelled out the window as they passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could just barely manage to hear Zoey call, "Good luck!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few zombies caught the hood of the car as they drove, and Ellis only barely managed to avoid a Charger that lumbered out from an alley. But eventually, they pulled back onto a highway and left the city behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle slumped into the back seat, letting out a shaky breath. "Wow. I can't believe we pulled that off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We wouldn't have if not for those guys," Nick said, flipping the safety on his rifle before resting it between his knees. "Damn, I might actually miss 'em."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis sighed wistfully, the adrenaline finally settling into a shaky calm. "Hope we see 'em again someday."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drove, the night growing darker around them as they passed abandoned towns. Coach stretched out his leg, grateful for the space the passenger seat offered - it wasn't lost on him that Nick had taken the back seat, especially since he seemed to notice Coach was limping. About twenty minutes into the drive, Ellis caught himself yawning. "Okay," Coach said, sounding half-asleep himself. "Let's find a place to pull off for the night. It's been a hell of a day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lucked out. Just off the exit for the next town, there was a cozy, two-story house sitting off a side road. The front door was unlocked, but after a quick walkthrough, it was clear that the house had been abandoned. "Someone should stay up," Nick said, rubbing his face as they settled in the living room. "Keep watch."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nick, I'm dog-tired. We didn't see any zombies comin' in, we might be okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"True, but I don't wanna get jumped in the middle of the night. Better safe than sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach sighed, rolling his shoulder and wincing as it cracked. "Alright. Let's at least get some barricades up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were only two doors that led outside, and it was easy enough to block them off with furniture. All of the bedrooms were upstairs, too, so the windows weren't too much of a concern. Eventually, even Nick was too tired to argue any further, and they all retreated to settle in for the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach's knee ached, but after a few painkillers, even the pain wasn't enough to keep him from falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, all was quiet.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Interlude II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nick woke up to the sun shining directly in his eyes. The window to the bedroom faced east, and with the curtains drawn, the light effortlessly filled the entire room. He hissed, rolling over to stretch out in the twin-sized bed and wincing at the ache in his back. He was sore as hell from their exploits over the last day - and Christ, it had only been a <em>day</em>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he lay there, staring at the ceiling. Yesterday, he was trying not to wake his one-night stand while he showered and got dressed to go cheat people out of their money. All of his luggage was still in that room back in Savannah, all of his favorite cologne and body wash and hair gel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick felt himself practically melding with the mattress below him, taking in the comfort as he listened to the ambiance of the house. He expected creaking floorboards or rustling brush from outside, but all he could hear was Coach's gentle snoring from down the hall. He thought back to the night before, how the older man had tackled him out of the way of a thrown car - he could still feel the hard concrete against his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated to admit it, but he wouldn't have made it here if it weren't for the others. In less than twenty-four hours, they had gone from scared and hopeless to bonafide survivors, and the worst part was that they were reliable. They looked out for him, even when he had insulted them and argued with them and closed himself off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a grunt, Nick threw off the covers and stood, stretching before starting to get dressed again. He left his suit jacket hanging in the closet as he crept his way downstairs. Whoever had lived here before seemed to have left in a hurry, and he was sure they wouldn't miss some groceries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house was silent as he made his way to the kitchen; he was the only one awake. So he cracked his knuckles and got to work. He hadn't been able to make a full breakfast spread in a long time, and if Rayford was any indication, the trip to New Orleans wasn't going to be easy. They may as well take the time to enjoy a proper meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle came down the stairs just as Nick was finishing frying the bacon, pausing mid-yawn to look at him in confusion. "Morning, sweetheart," Nick teased, dividing the strips between four plates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you... you're not making this for <em>us</em>, are you?" she asked, equal parts confused and sleepy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nah. Some of it's for me, too. How do you want your eggs?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh... over medium." Rochelle sat at the kitchen island, watching as he moved between frying pans. Sausages in one, eggs in another, corned beef hash in a third. On the back burner, there was even a saucepan full of - "Are those baked beans? For <em>breakfast</em>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yep." Nick set the spatula down, looking back at her. "You're getting the full English, honey. Guys must've gone grocery shopping right before the evac."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, leaning forward against the granite. Any excitement about the meal before them faded as she frowned. "This is someone else's house, Nick."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure they won't miss it." Nick turned back to the stove, sliding out two pairs of sunny-side-up eggs. "Besides, the sausage was already defrosting. Would've gone to waste."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lucky for you, I'm too hungry to argue," she eventually admitted, standing up to get a glass of water from the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Think Coach is an over-easy guy? Or over-medium, too?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle pondered that for a long moment before nodding. "Over-medium."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach was the next to join them, eyes narrowing at the scene. "This ain't our food to be eatin'," he said, arms crossed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Coach," Rochelle said, giving him a gentle but somewhat chiding look. "I think the people that live here won't be too upset over some bacon."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I could always eat your share if you don't want it," Nick chimed in, offering a single glance over his shoulder with a quirked brow. "Although I <em>did</em> make you double."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach paused, glancing between the two of them and the plates of food. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head before shuffling to the dining room. "Shit. I'll set the table."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis was the last to join them, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he stepped into the dining room. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Rochelle said, smiling brightly at him as she gestured to an empty seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, we got a whole-ass breakfast here," Ellis said, brightening as he sat down to look at his plate. "Thanks, Ro."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle cleared her throat, glancing over at Nick. The gambler had cooked up toast, as well, and was using it to mop up some egg yolk. "Actually... Nick did the cooking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For real?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick shrugged to himself, taking a bite of toast. "Think of it as thanks. For... pretty much everything, I guess. Savannah. Last night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence was palpable at the reminder of everything they'd been through, but Coach shook his head after a moment. "Shit, Nick. We're in this together now. Long as you got our backs, we got yours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The expression that crossed Nick's face was gone almost as quickly as it came, some mild surprise mixed with vulnerability. Ellis caught it and said nothing, choosing instead to change the subject. "Why the beans?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Seriously, you guys have never had a full English before?" Nick sighed, but he seemed more relieved at the topic change than anything. "The only thing missing to make it a bonafide Irish is the pudding."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pudding for breakfast?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not that kind of pudding, sport. Blood sausage."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle wrinkled her nose. "White people," she joked, earning a hearty laugh from Coach. </span>
  <span>Nick snorted quietly into his water, smiling up at her. And it was a genuine smile for once. Rochelle had gotten used to his little one-sided smirks and sneers, so to see him </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleased</span>
  </em>
  <span> with something gave her pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Irish, huh?" Coach eventually said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Fourth-gen."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damn," Rochelle said. "I was betting Italian."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick rolled his eyes, using his second slice of toast as a carrier for some baked beans. "Is it the hair? Gotta be, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ain't ever seen a hairy Irishman."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You never met my uncle Patrick. That guy could grow a beard down to his knees."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis snorted at the visual image, quickly drinking water to keep from choking on toast. "For real, though," he said once he could talk again. "Thanks, Nick. This is pretty damn good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can show your appreciation by helping with the dishes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Ellis and Nick cleared the table and headed to the kitchen, Rochelle and Coach settled down in the living room. She stretched out on the couch with a sigh. "Alright. So you know where we're heading from here, big guy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach snorted, folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back in a recliner. He was clicking through channels on the television; the house still had power, but there was only static. "Plan should be the same as before. We're on the 75 now. Just gotta get over to the 85 and head south."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright. But if Atlanta's gone, is there gonna be a back road we can take or something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. We'll find the way." He reached out to her, calm determination set on his face. When she took his hand, it put her at ease. "Gotta get you back to Cleveland."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed gently. "Right. I've got the scoop of the century right here. My boss is gonna be <em>floored</em>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the dishes were cleaned, Nick and Ellis re-joined them in the living room, sorting through their supplies and ammunition. The antics of the day before had fully caught up to them now, leaving them sore and tired, so they agreed on another few hours of rest before moving on. "Ro," Ellis said suddenly, eyes crinkling playfully. "Two truths and a lie. Go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle rolled her eyes. "What is this? A slumber party?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon. We're stuck together, might as well get to know each other."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pursed her lips in thought, tilting her head to the side. Her locs were loose and free, and she idly pushed one out of her face as she sighed. "Okay. Uh... I've never had a pet, I have a boyfriend, and... I nearly flunked out of college."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We really doin' this?" Coach asked, raising his brow at her. "College."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"College," Nick agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never had a pet," Ellis said after studying her for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle grinned, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You're all wrong."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, really?" Ellis blinked at her, sitting up straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're single, then?" Nick winked at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sneered at him, reaching over to swat him on the arm. "Yeah. My mom's allergic to pet dander, and I partied a little too hard freshman year." She eyed the others for a moment before deciding to say, "Coach."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit. Alright." The oldest of the group sat back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach. "I have two kids, almost went pro in football, and have never owned a DVD player."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When were you born? 1940?" Nick cracked, laughing at the dirty look Coach gave him. "The DVD player."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm... I feel like you have more kids than that," Rochelle said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shoot, that's tough. Uh... the DVD player."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach shook his head, smiling at Rochelle. "You almost had it. I got one. Jackson. Turns 16 this year."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle snapped her fingers. "Damn. That's what I get for assuming, I guess. And you said you were divorced, too, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coach shrugged, scratching his chin. "Yeah. Ain't too big a deal. Shit just don't work out, sometimes." He nodded at Nick. "You next."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No way. Pass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, c'mon, Nick," Ellis said, pouting. "Humor us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick sighed dramatically, leaning against the arm of the couch. "Uh... shit. I've never been to California, I drive a 'Vette, and..." He paused, brows furrowing slightly. Rochelle could tell he was struggling with a third option and was about to suggest they come back to him when he finally said, "...I spent a year and a half in prison."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he had been expecting a strong reaction, he would be sorely disappointed. Rochelle's brows raised, and Coach gave him a level look, but that was the extent of any outward judgment. Only Ellis seemed to be genuinely surprised, glancing between the others with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Coach said, "...Hard to think you ain't ever been to California."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick paused at that, finally snorting to himself and resting back into the couch cushions. "Yeah. Never saw reason to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, what kinda car you drive?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not even gonna pretend the third option is the lie?" Nick shook his head. "I had a Suzuki. Bike. Just got the oil changed when shit went to hell, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, wait, wait - you've been to <em>jail</em>?" Ellis was still staring up at him. It seemed the thought that he had some kind of criminal history had never even occurred to him. "What for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick shifted a little uncomfortably, glancing at the others again to gauge their reactions. When he only saw a mild curiosity, he averted his gaze to the coffee table. "...Second-degree assault."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow." Rochelle shook her head. "There's gotta be a story behind that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. But you're not hearing it today. Ellis?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis snapped back to attention, frowning. "Man, you can't just drop that on us and not tell the story!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, I can." Nick's expression was serious now, an eyebrow raised in mild warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis peered at him for a long few seconds before sighing. "Okay. Me, then. Uh..." He scrunched his nose in thought. "I've never ridden a horse before, I've got two sisters, and... I had the best penmanship in high school."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick snorted quietly and said, "Best penmanship? Really?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No way you ain't ever been on a horse."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rochelle smiled to herself. "Ellis, you <em>told</em> me you don't have siblings. Back in the mall."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis blinked up at her, brows raising. "...Shit, I forgot about that. Yeah, that's the lie, then. Never had the money to go to the stables growin' up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damn. Your parents decided one of you was enough, huh?" Coach laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I guess siblings just weren't in God's plan, y'know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They paused to make some lunch, using up some boxed macaroni and cheese before playing a few more rounds of Two Truths and a Lie. It was the closest thing to normal Rochelle had experienced in a long time. She found out that Nick had been shivved before, Coach was Prom King his senior year, and Ellis played a lot of a game called 'Team Fortress 2'. And she got to tell them about how she had actually considered getting married before the Green Flu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they felt ready to move on, it was well into the afternoon. "Ro, you want shotgun?" Coach asked as they packed up their supplies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only if you don't mind," she replied. "You seemed pretty cozy up there last night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffed quietly, shaking his head. "I'm good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, we just gotta figure out how to get to the 85 from here?" Ellis asked, slinging his bag over his shoulders. "Plenty of back roads. I don't drive up this way a lot, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hope y'all don't mind backseat driving."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, if it gets us to New Orleans, I can deal," Nick chimed in, double-checking his guns one last time before he looked up at them. "Ready to go?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had the decency to leave the house about as well as they found it. The barricade remained on the back door, but they kept the front unlocked just in case. With one last gear check, they piled into the Jimmy Gibbs, Jr., pulling away and back onto the road.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. The Motel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This took a while. Mostly because I was trying to decide how to do it.</p><p>This version is based on the Dark Carnival: Remix map - check it out if you haven't yet!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>About half an hour into the drive, Nick remembered why he hated road trips. It wouldn't have been too bad if they'd had a radio or music of any kind, but the only sounds they had in the stock car were the wind whipping outside and themselves. And while Ellis was in the driver's seat rambling about the time he and his friend Keith tried to make fireworks, it seemed more like white noise; Rochelle and Coach were quiet.</p><p>The fact he was an ex-felon was out in the open now, and he couldn't tell if that made a difference in the dynamic of the group. His stint in jail wasn't even close to the extent of the terrible things he'd done, but it seemed like a good diving point. They seemed to respect his privacy enough not to pry much further, at least. Still, it felt like the relative silence was fragile. Coach had always thought he was shady; Nick knew that much. Even remembering their conversation in the mall, he couldn't help but think that the peace was rocky now.</p><p>About as rocky as the bodies that rolled under the car's tires as they slowed to a stop. "Aw, shit," Ellis said, peering through the window shield.</p><p>"What -" Rochelle started to say, sitting up straight next to him as she followed his gaze. "Shit."</p><p>Cars blocked the highway in front of them, sitting bumper-to-bumper and skewed at all angles. There was barely any room for a person to squeeze between them, let alone a full-sized stock car.</p><p>They climbed out of the car, silent for a moment as they took in the scene. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Nick said, resting his hands on his hips. "But unless you know how to build a monster truck, Ellis, we <em>ain't</em> driving through this."</p><p>Ellis sighed, pulling off his hat to wipe his forehead. "Sorry, folks. Guess it wasn't such a hot idea after all."</p><p>Coach patted Ellis's shoulder. "Hey, you got us this far. Looks like we're gettin' back on foot."</p><p>Once they'd pulled out all of their supplies, Ellis paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, guys? Can I have a second? Alone?" Nick raised a brow, glancing at the others. Rochelle just shrugged and gestured for him to follow as they headed towards the wreckage. Ellis sighed, turning back to the car and setting his hands against the hood. He swallowed hard. "Well... let's not make this harder than it needs to be, alright? You did good. Thank you."</p><p>And with that, he sighed, leaving the Jimmy Gibbs, Jr. behind without another look back.</p><p>A few zombies charged at them as they weaved between cars, but at this point, killing them was almost worryingly easy. "It looks like these cars go on for miles," Rochelle said from her position on the trunk of a car, peering at the horizon.</p><p>"Maybe the people left 'em when they got rescued," Coach suggested.</p><p>Nick snorted quietly. "That's one theory."</p><p>A theory that was quickly disproven as they passed a particularly gruesome scene - a car with a door halfway torn off the hinges. A mutilated body sat in the driver's seat. "They were attacked in their cars," Rochelle muttered, swallowing hard. "God."</p><p>There was a break in the wreckage that led to a grassy median, and they took a second to get their bearings. A billboard caught Nick's attention, lit up against the quickly-darkening sky with four cartoon figures waving down at him, claiming 'WHISPERING OAKS AMUSEMENT PARK'. "Hey, check it out," he said, pointing up to it.</p><p>"Whispering Oaks?" Coach stood upright at that, a bittersweet smile coming to his face. "Shit. I used to go there when I was a kid."</p><p>"I <em>thought</em> I recognized this stretch of highway." Ellis rested his rifle against his shoulder, clicking on his flashlight to light the path ahead. Eventually, he pointed with it. "There's a hill between the roads. We can probably climb down; our best bet's probably to get <em>around</em> the traffic."</p><p>"Watch the overpass," Nick warned as they started towards the hill.</p><p>His words weren't in vain. The gurgling groans of a Boomer echoed above them just as they started to descend, and Ellis barely dodged out of the way as it hurled over the ledge. Rochelle put it down with a single shot. "Did that thing just try to snipe us?" she asked, brows furrowed.</p><p>"Let's get out of the open."</p><p>Coach led them down the hill to the lower part of the highway, and the first thing they saw was what had appeared to be an accident. A car, still running, was stalled in front of a pile of infected bodies. The headlights were on, spilling light over cold skin and onto the road. "Lord," he said, shaking his head before continuing on. "This shit spread quick."</p><p>"We were heading towards Atlanta," Nick reminded him. "Which, according to CEDA, got absolutely fucking destroyed."</p><p>"Both directions," Rochelle mused quietly. "People headed south to get away from Atlanta. People headed north to get away from Savannah.  Real 'rock and a hard place' kind of deal."</p><p>A haze settled over the ground as they kept moving, the traffic growing more sparse as they went. Up ahead, an illuminated motel sign stood out in the growing darkness, and an abandoned campfire sat in the brush to the right that offered them some more ammunition. The road east was blockaded, but Coach got the group's attention with a hushed sound, pointing to the sky. Two faint but distinct beams of light waved in the air. "That should be comin' from Whispering Oaks - there might still be people there."</p><p>"That, or a corpse fell on the searchlight button." Rochelle elbowed Nick in the side but couldn't fight back a reflexive laugh. He spared a second to smirk at her. "Guess we could still check it out."</p><p>"Let's cut through the motel. We ain't gettin' any further down this road." Ellis took the lead, using the scope of his rifle to pick off stray zombies through the windows of the rooms.</p><p>"Think there might be anything in the cars?" Rochelle mused, reaching towards a dingy red compact car. Nick reached out to grab her wrist just before she could get a hold of it.</p><p>"Careful," he hissed, pointing towards the front window shield. There was a faint red light blinking lazily through the glass. "Car alarm."</p><p>"Oh." She lowered her hand, suddenly embarrassed. "And... those are pretty damn loud."</p><p>"Yeah." Nick readjusted his grip on his rifle, frowning slightly. "Odds are it wouldn't be worth it."</p><p>Soft crying caught their attention as they made their way around the outside of the motel. "Quiet, y'all. I hear a bitch," Coach muttered, gesturing for the others to be quiet.</p><p>"They might be zombies, but there's no need to be rude," Rochelle chided softly, her lip twitching. "Maybe call them witches instead."</p><p>"Whatever the fuck they're called - where is she?"</p><p>They continued on the ground floor, but never caught sight of her; the cries echoed from somewhere on the second-floor balcony. They all breathed out a sigh of relief as they hurried past. "There might be supplies in some of the rooms," Ellis suggested quietly.</p><p>Coach nodded. "Be quick."</p><p>They managed to find another first aid kit, some painkillers, and another adrenaline shot in some of the empty rooms. "Isn't that for allergic reactions?" Rochelle asked as Nick held it out to her.</p><p>"Yeah. That biker guy gave me one before we left, though; I figure he knows something about these things that we don't."</p><p>Rochelle paused, then took the syringe and strapped it to her thigh.</p><p>On this side of the motel, the road was blocked off as well. Before them, the ground dropped off into a steep hill, and the lights of Whispering Oaks illuminated the sky. "Nowhere to go but down," Ellis said, peering into the basin below. Water had pooled at the base, likely from the storm the night before.</p><p>"Alright. Looks steep; be careful, y'all," Coach said.</p><p>They carefully descended, the grass slippery under their feet and threatening to give out. They managed to hit the bottom of the hill without issue, but cover was sparse, and they caught a couple of zombies' attention. Where there was one, there were at least ten more, and a horde began to emerge from the water.</p><p>The pooled water was cold as they waded into it, but it was the only way to the opposite bank and possible salvation. Coach grit his teeth and pushed forward, using his shotgun to keep the swarm from overwhelming them. It seemed to work better than trying to pick them off one by one; the others seemed to have that covered with their rifles. A high shriek cut through the crowd as a tall, female figure pushed her way through the bodies, electric green fluid dripping from her ruined face. "Spitter!" Rochelle yelled, and they peeled away just as a ball of acid flew through the air and splattered at their feet. It drew a bubbling line through the water between the four; Nick and Ellis on one side, Coach and Rochelle on the other.</p><p>Ellis instinctively tried to move forward to regroup, but Nick grabbed his arm before he could step into the boiling goo. "They're fine," he yelled over the chaos. "Clear these assholes out first!"</p><p>Ellis swallowed but obeyed, raising his SMG to help pick off the zombies around them. The Spitter disappeared into the crowd, but that would have to be a problem for later. He could still faintly make out the magenta color of Rochelle's shirt, and that gave him a small amount of comfort. As soon as the acid began to darken and cool, Nick started to push forward, brow furrowed in intense concentration. He picked off the horde with a cold precision that left Ellis both awed and mildly terrified. He had no idea what, exactly, "second-degree assault" meant, but it made the suit's confidence with a gun a little more concerning. Ellis briefly found himself thinking, '<em>Good thing he's on our side</em>.'</p><p>They managed to regroup and push their way toward the bank, the horde's numbers finally trickling down as they climbed up another hill. The highway broke off into a parking lot and a building with a symbol painted on the side. It looked like a crude facsimile of a house with a plus sign inside of it. He kept it in mind as he turned, dropping down to a knee and swapping his SMG for his rifle. He could provide cover fire from the top of the hill while the others worked their way up.</p><p>Only a few zombies were still standing to chase them down when they were all back on the solid ground of a road, and Ellis gestured behind him. "Think that might be a safe house?" he asked, slinging his rifle over his back.</p><p>"Only one way to find out," Coach said, unable to hide the strain in his voice. Fighting through a horde up a muddy hill had taken a lot out of him; he couldn't help but think, '<em>Damn, I'm outta shape</em>.'</p><p>But while the zombies behind them had petered off into a minor nuisance, there was more wandering about parking lot ahead, including a Hunter that screamed as it jumped from its position by a truck. They weren't fast enough to knock it back before it pounced, and it collided with Ellis's chest, knocking them both into a parked car. The car started to screech at the impact, the alarm drawing a howling response from what sounded like every direction. Coach managed to pull the Hunter off of Ellis before it could sink its claws into him and slammed the butt of his shotgun against its cheek. The impact sent it sprawling to the ground with a sickening 'crack!' as its neck snapped.</p><p>"Shit," Nick said, grabbing Ellis's arm to pull him upright. "Inside! Now!"</p><p>Ellis held on desperately, still disoriented from the attack, as they ran for an open door. Sure enough, it was heavy and barred - a safe room. They managed to file inside just as another horde started to scramble up the fences around them. Rochelle shoved the door closed with all of her strength, the bar sliding in place as zombies started to pile against it. She wasted no time grabbing the nearest table, and Nick set his gun aside to help, gritting his teeth as they lifted it against the door as a barricade.</p><p>Ellis leaned against a wall, catching his breath for a second before whooping. "Damn. That really got the blood pumpin', huh?"</p><p>Rochelle nodded, pulling the handkerchief from her head and tossing it aside. "For real. CrossFit never trained me for this."</p><p>"Alright. Catch your breath, everybody," Coach said, taking a seat in a corner with a heavy sigh. As they rested, they could hear the alarm warp and go silent, and the banging on the door eventually stopped. The ensuing silence was almost deafening.</p>
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